Colorblind
by Lisabeth C
Summary: Season 4. Follows Veronica's sophomore year at Hearst. Love, lies, complications, the usual...
1. Long Time Coming

My summer was long. The longest one I've ever had if I actually had to guess. Let's get to the obvious, the FBI. Virginia. Woohoo? Dream come true? Not hardly. It was an amazing experience, but one that was scary as hell. Plus, I was out there by myself. Despite Piz's efforts to join me, I refused. We broke up. I wasn't surprised, we weren't really a great idea in the first place. I've kind of resigned myself to the idea that things have to be a challenge to be worth it. He was so nice. It sucked to break it to him. The look on his face, I don't think I'll ever forget it. We're supposed to be "just friends" but I doubt that'll happen. Somehow I think we'll just end up being the kind of friends that don't really hang out but maybe wave in the hallway. Wallace is still fighting the good fight. The last time I heard from him was June 28th, which is understandable. He's having the time of his life and I'm proud of him. His last email was a glowing report of what he's been doing, helping and fundraising. He's supposed to come back two days from now and I intend on meeting him at the airport. His mom is worried absolutely sick. Mac has spent the entire summer in "Max-land" which I'm completely sure she's happy with.

A few less than happy points since my FBI internship? One being Parker. She'll come in to the library, supposedly doing summer research and completely shun me. I know she blames her breakup with Logan on me, which is fair, I guess…if you're ridiculously paranoid. But, last week, I heard her telling a friend she's transferring schools. Good for her. Another, big L himself. A few texts during the summer do me more harm than good. "Great waves in T.J., how's VA?" texts ringing out during FBI meetings, not a good additive to my already rookie reputation. What's up with the casual texts anyway? I digress. Last but not least, my glum father. After expecting to win the Sheriffs race by a landslide, due to missing evidence, mi padre has been hanging around the apartment when he's not at work. While at work? Not at his usual pace, while off from my library duties, I catch the slack free of charge.

Bored, waiting for my break, in oh, about 6 minutes, I check in some books. _Singletini, Chicken Soup for the Pet Lover's Soul_… no interesting reads here. While looking down, I hear the ding of my motel-esque brass bell. I look up and smirk. Logan Echolls. Am I surprised? Mildly, I'll admit. He's tanner, same style. Nothing remarkably different.

"And I thought this day couldn't get anymore interesting…"

"Hey, Veronica."

"Now are you here for a raucous rendezvous in the stacks or some materials of higher learning?" I smile, leaning on the circulation desk counter.

"No raucous rendezvous' for me today. Shame, though." He grins. "No, actually, I'm trying to get an edge up on the upcoming school year. Turns out I may have to get that prized diploma for my future lifestyle. My accountant says I've been squandering my trust fund and inheritance. Hence, the early return from Tijuana." He raises his eyebrows and sighs.

"Tsk tsk. What materials can I score for you today, young Echolls?" I pause "That kind of sounds like a drug deal. Retract."

"Do you have the English II booklist?" He asks.

"Unfortunately." I reach under the desk to a drawer with Xeroxed sheets. I hand it to him.

"How was the FBI?" He looks me in the eye. It's a little unnerving, considering I came to see him the night before I left.

"Everything Miss Congeniality would lead you to believe. Except, you know, minus the pageant storyline." I pause, trying to overcompensate with pop culture references. "It was scary, Logan. I went through some things that I'd really rather not go through again. You get my drift?"

He nods. "But it was a learning experience, yeah?" I can tell from his concentrated eye contact with me that he remembers that night, too. Hello awkwardness, old friend.


	2. Undeniable

As planned, I go to pick Wallace up from the airport. Baggage claim is drafty and as soon as I spy his bright blue luggage run through the carousel, I snatch it up and wait in a stiff plastic chair next to the window.

Wallace walks up to me and lifts me up for a hug. A strong hug. That's right, a BFF style hug. He lets me go.

"You know, Wallace, you really shouldn't leave your luggage unattended." I lift up the duffel bag and hand it to him.

"Thank you, Veronica." He smiles "I'll keep that in mind. What do you say about getting out of this place? I'm sick of airports." He shakes his head.

"Understandably…how long was the layover in Dallas again?"

"Six hours!" He exclaims.

"You poor soul!" I laugh and we walk together out the door and into the blazing sun.

"So how did the internship go?"

I should've expected he'd ask. _Oh boy, what should I have told him? Eye-opening? Scary as hell?_

"Good." I finally reply, shocked that I lied to him. "You know, Logan asked me that same question a few nights ago." I raise my eyebrows at him, hinting.

"Oh, really? That's cool." He says coolly, acting unassuming. _Fine, Wallace, don't fess up._

"Why did you tell him, Wallace?" I ask suddenly. I can tell I sound completely self-absorbed. Not that I was keeping the whole internship a secret under lock and key, it's just that Logan and I…well, we weren't big with the communication when I found out I was going.

"He came to me and asked where you were. Said you'd done some disappearing act on him. Was I supposed to lie?" Wallace shakes his head tiredly. "_What did you do to that guy_?"

_It's more like what I didn't do the next morning_, I think sensitively to myself.

"It was just stupid. The night before I left, I went to visit him at his place…that's all." I cross my arms uncomfortably. Segueing…" So…what did you do for mankind this summer?"

"I see. Subject change." He sighs. "Well, this past month, we refurnished an old school house and organized some transit for students that would normally walk miles everyday."

"You're going to have one hell of a 'back to school essay'."

* * *

After Wallace and I watch a movie, I drop by the office and do some organizing for Dad, whom I can only assume is at home fixing lasagna or something equally appetizing.

I still haven't told him that I ran into Mom this summer. I don't know if I should. It just so happened that she was involved in an investment fraud case under the assumed name of Suzanne Astor. She was a secretary at the Morrison Corporation. I demanded to be taken off the case. I _still_ regret that decision.

Normally, Dad keeps two piles of files on his desk: complete and incomplete. Lately, the piles have been mixing together. I leaf through the files, trying to decide whether they should land in pile #1 or #2. I file them tiredly, putting the complete ones alphabetically into the beyond gray filing cabinets. The others are filed by urgency and placed in the exact middle of his faux wood desk.

I cautiously check my surroundings and curiously open Dad's safe. I haven't done that since Duncan and I found the tapes in Lilly's vents. I haven't had to.

My fingers land on a file with a familiar name written in red Sharpie. Lianne Mars. Inspecting the file, I find out that Dad knows. About Suzanne Astor, about the investigation, everything…

Things have just gotten a little more interesting.


	3. Foundations

I know I owe Wallace an explanation as well as obviously Logan. Despite the fact that Wallace is my BFF forever and always, I'd still rather not discuss all the hairy details of my love life with him. In fact, as of late, I'd rather not even think about them myself. However, for the sake of clarification, I'll explain.

I remember distinctly that I wrang my hands in the elevator. Every time I closed my eyes I felt guilty. After the millionth attempt by Piz to follow me to Quantico, I'd finally completely denied him.

"_Is it so wrong to want to spend some time with my girlfriend this summer?" He'd asked innocently. No hidden agenda there. With Piz, there never really was._

_"I don't want you to miss out on your own internship. I mean, really, DJ-ing like a badass all summer sounds much more interesting to me than chilling around a hotel room."_

_He finally took my insistence at face value. He finally recognized that maybe I didn't really want him hanging around this summer. I know that it was completely horrible of me. "What are you trying to say, Veronica?" He asked for clarification._

_"Piz, I just don't think it's a good idea…I don't think we're necessarily a good idea, either." I said it too bluntly. I'd tried for soft and gentle, but I knew it came across as entirely too harsh._

_"Oh." He looked down at his feet and crossed his arms. "Is it because of Logan-?"_

_"God, no." I'd said, as if trying to convince myself too. "It has nothing to do with that. We're just not terribly compatible. We can still be friends if you want." It was a pity offering and I'm sure he could tell._

_"Sure. Friends it is." He'd said awkwardly, and obviously not completely truthfully. He looked so grim and so pale. I'd dropped a bomb on him, but really? Had he expected us to watch Matlock together as we turned old and gray?_

_"You, me, and Wallace'll have a movie marathon later this summer, ok? I promise." I attempted to make amends at the time, although it was unsuccessful. I never did invite him over for a movie marathon._

Ashamed, I finally said my goodbye and stalked out of the dorm. Driving home from the encounter, I met a red light. It was an uncharacteristically long one too. At the light, I softly hit my head on the wheel in frustration. Was Piz right? Was it really still all about Logan? _He was kinda sexy when he kicked Gory's ass._ I tried to block the meddling little thoughts out of my head but they kept on rushing in. All I could think of was Logan…and, believe me, I knew it was bad. In actuality, _I had it bad._ Once the red light segued to green, I redirected myself toward the Neptune Grand. I could only hope he was at his suite. Alone.

Finally arriving, I parked in the multilevel parking garage and contemplated as I took slow steps to the entrance. Checking my cell, I realized it was nearing one o' clock. Thank goodness Dad had been at some convention. Otherwise, I knew I'd have received a stern phone call requesting my butt at home. The doorman, Charles, recognized me and gave me a small, slightly grinning nod. I genuinely smiled back. He'd always been nice to me. Making my way to the elevator, I collected my thoughts. As previously said, once in said elevator, I began to wring my hands uncomfortably. I was guilty for dumping Piz point blank and nervous for the interaction yet to come. I could only cross my fingers that it would be favorable. The walk down the hall seemed never-ending, but I finally reached my destination. I gave a hollow knock on the door and Dick answered, only clad in some plaid PJ pants and a wife beater.

"Dude, Ronnie, it's late. You here for a booty call or something?" I wanted to punch him. I pushed him, my finger on his chest, thereby gaining my entry to the suite. "Frisky are we? You know I've been waiting for the day you'd finally come around." He commented suggestively.

"You're a pig." I noted briefly. "Where's Logan?"

"You mean sleepy-head?" Dick paused as he looked at the TV screen; a movie was paused. One with scantily dressed women. "He retired to his room long ago."

"Get back to your movie, then. What is it anyway?" I asked gruffly, rubbing my eyes.

"Tokyo Drift, Ron-Ron." He said as if it were self-explanatory and simply plopped back onto the couch. "Make sure you lock the door when you sneak out, like a true hooker." He joked and refocused his attention on the screen. I rolled my eyes again and went to Logan's door. I knocked again and loudly. I heard a muffled groan.

"Dude, I told you I don't want to watch that movie with you. Can't a man get some sleep around here?" He groaned and I could hear his voice coming closer. He pulled the door open and looked me intently in the eye, ruffling his unkempt hair. "Come in." Once the door was shut and locked, he looked me over as if I were a part of an unknown nightmare. Hell, maybe I was. He had a harsh expression on his face. "What are you doing here? I thought I was 'out of your life'? That it was 'just done'." He rubbed what I'd said in my face.

I blushed crimson. "I'm sorry."

"You're sorry? Does the great Veronica Mars even feel remorse?" He asked cruelly.

"Quit being a jackass, Logan." I paused, trying to recollect my thoughts "I'm trying to apologize and if you can't accept that, then maybe I should just leave." I turned to walk away and he grabbed my arm, gingerly. The softness in his touch let me know that all his thoughts weren't leaning toward more cruelty.

"Explain what you're so sorry about, I guess." He waved me on as he sat on his bed. Only then had I gotten a peek at what he was wearing. He wore a plain white t-shirt and a pair of polka dot boxers: my favorite ones. I'd actually bought them for him the previous summer.

"I just got in this blind rage, okay? You of all people know what I'm talking about." I said this softly with a slight smirk. He gave a familiar nod. "I'm sorry I said all that. As hard as it is to say it, Logan, I don't want to lose you from my life." The truth I'd suddenly spilled shocked even me.

"Now, I'm interested." He patted his bed and I sat next to him. The soft cotton of his t-shirt brushed my skin and I suddenly felt deliriously warm. "Now, is that the _only_ reason you miraculously appeared at…" He took a peek at his alarm clock. "1:07 this fine morning?" As usual, Logan was expecting more than he knew I was comfortable to let on.

"I broke up with Piz." I said simply with a shrug. Logan looked at me, bunching his eyebrows. He shook his head.

"Is this one of those rebound things? I'm really not so much into that." He assured me, trying to analyze me for any other explanations.

"It's not rebound." I shook my head back, insisting. "Rebound is petty and tawdry. This is more of a realization – "

"Of _what_ exactly?" He asked, his voice gaining back its bite. I looked him straight in the eye. He tilted his head, trying to read me, his cheeks still flaming with frustration.

Frankly, I hesitantly replied "That it was always you." Corny, I know. But it certainly did the trick, even for a pure unromantic like Logan. With a sparkle in his eye, he leaned his forehead against my own, and I felt his hot breath meeting mine.

He caught me in a kiss.


	4. Bend and Not Break

The harsh reality of life is that you're going to get hurt. Scraped knees or heartbreaks: it's all standard. With my mom, it always feels fresh.

"_Becky Newsome." I told the clerk in the front office. "1:00 appointment with Gary Spalding."_

"_If you'd just wait here, Mr. Spalding's secretary will be right with you." She nodded to an uncomfortable chair in the corner. The entire lobby just screamed fraud. I sat down and surveyed my surroundings. Every chair was covered in fancy tapestry and I was absolutely sure I'd seen the wall fountain in Sky Mall. Aesthetic budgeting doesn't usually cover marble $600 wall fountains. The room was drafty and I checked my watch. 1:00 turned into 1:30. Soon, it was about 2:15 and I still hadn't been seen. Finally, I was the only one left in the lobby. A slender, brunette woman came into the lobby and said 'Becky Newsome?' I looked over and my heart stopped. Mom? I nodded and got up, following her. She led me into the office and we awkwardly sat across from each other at her sleek desk. I'd gotten an in depth faculty directory, complete with pictures, names, addresses, everything. "Suzanne Astor" hadn't appeared once. Or maybe she had and I hadn't noticed, lost in the continuous list. She looked me in the eye and recognition took over. She looked back down on her information sheet and repeated "Becky Newsome?" in a wavering voice._

"_Yes." I played along, trying to maintain my objective._

"_Mr. Spalding has asked me to get a little information from you before he begins your appointment. Why have you come to the Morrison Corporation for your investment needs?" Although my mother was hiding under dark brown hair dye, I could recognize the old Lianne. Scattered, desperate…and she could so clearly recognize me._

"_I've always had a little problem with my investment choices. I mean, just a few years ago, I made the ill-judgment to entrust all of my college money with my deadbeat mom…" I bit back coolly. My earpiece whispered in my ear "Why are you deviating off script, Mars?"_

_Her eyes shadowed, my mother weaved her hands on her desk. "That must've been awful, Ms. Newsome."_

"_Yes, it was." I paused coldly "Now, anymore questions before I can see Mr. Spalding?" I was suddenly getting hoarse, play-acting taking its toll. _

_She nodded nervously and buzzed me in. After a short, concise meeting with Mr. Spalding, I ran to the bathroom and threw up. I couldn't believe how affected by my mother I still was. I remembered distinctly telling her I was through with her. But could I ever be? This woman was ingrained in my heart from a very young age. I couldn't just drop her. _

_I got in the tiny Ford Escort they'd provided me with and drove. Almost immediately, my phone rang out. My case supervisor blared in my ear as I answered._

"_What were you doing, Mars?" Hendricks boomed. "You could've compromised the whole damn thing."_

"_It's a conflict of interest." I informed him bluntly, without emotion. _

"_What the hell are you talking about?"_

"_You've read my file. I know you have. It's procedure. Surely you know about my philandering, alcoholic mother? The one that left when I was 16?" I replied numbly. 16? Had it really been that long? I'm on the eve of 20._

"_There's no Mars at Morrison."_

"_Oh, yes there is: under the name of Suzanne Astor. Please transfer me." I said simply._

"_We'll have to have someone else do undercover." He grumbled and I knew he was shaking his head._

"_No, you won't. You've got some solid shots of the building interiors, exteriors. You've got phone records, bank receipts, everything, Hendricks. You've got a rock hard case here."_

"_Fine, Mars. See you tomorrow. Don't forget my Starbucks." He grumbled again and hung up._

_Soon enough, I arrived at the hotel they provided me a room at. Someone else pulled in next to me. My mother. Obviously, she'd either taken her break or just gotten off for the day. She followed me inside and up to my room._

"_Veronica…why were you there?" She asked, sitting on my bed._

"_That's none of your business. It's confidential. All you need to know is that I certainly wasn't there for you." I paced._

_My phone vibrated in my pocket and I read the text. "Making Waves Blowout. Neptune Grand. 9:00. Say goodbye to your friends Logan and Dick!" Logan had obviously mistakenly mass-texted me…again. It really was getting to be a problem._

"_Who is it?" She murmered._

"_Logan." I spoke almost inaudibly._

"_Logan? Are you two friends again?" She asked as if she were suddenly the concerned mom again._

_I ignored her question. "Why are you even in Greensboro, North Carolina?" I paused "What's here?"_

"_My grandparents used to live here, Veronica. They left me the bulk of their fortune and a house."_

"_You have a nice little living going on here, Mom. That $50,000 you stole from Dad must really pad out your bank account." I snarked._

"_Honey, you don't understand-"_

"_What I do understand, Mom, is that you've wasted $100,000 of mine and Dad's hard-earned money. Do you think I magically had $50,000 in my checking account? No, I worked long hours tailing cheating husbands and taking on extra cases for Dad. That was my college money. Apparently, to you, my...our time and effort wasn't worth it."_

_Defeated, she left my room. As the door closed and automatically locked, I collapsed against the wall and wept._

* * *

Catching more slack for Dad, I go on a cheating husband hunt. With my thermos full of hot chocolate and English books for the new semester, I'm set for a few hours. The whole thing is oddly reminiscent of my high school days. Even down to the cheap sleazy hotel. The Camelot hasn't changed at all. One of the neon letters, I note, is still burnt out.

_Wow, Jeff Ambrose, you're not terribly conspicuous_. Mr. Ambrose, a partner in Charles and Son Law Firm right here in Neptune, has just had a very heated make-out session with his girl of the night. Classy too. Nothing to top off a tawdry night at the Camelot like a little kiss kiss. They're right outside his room on the upper passageway. I click rapidly and peruse my options. "Money shot." I grin to myself as I look through the shots on my camera. Smiling, my eyes follow Mr. Ambrose's lady friend as she goes to her car. I take a picture of her and her license plate.

Like old times.

* * *

Craving some Ben and Jerry's, I drive to the grocery store. Yes, I know. After a thermos of hot chocolate, it's hardly considered healthy. Oh well, I can't punish myself for having a fabulous metabolism.

Perusing the ice cream section, I finally find what I've been looking for: Chunky Monkey. Walking back to the front to check out, I see Logan pushing a cart of what I can only assume are party supplies. Sans the actual alcohol, of course. That, he can score through one of his twenty-something, legal burnout friends. I give a soft wave and he looks me over, confused. I look down at my outfit and my cheeks flame red. I'm wearing my standard stakeout uniform. He knows it all too well from our backseat romps.

"Lookin' hot, Veronica." He smirks, checking his inventory.

"You know, if I didn't know you any better, I'd think you were putting a price _check out_ on my panties."

"What if I am?" He asks with a suggestive waggle of his eyebrows.

"Ain't getting no action from this girl tonight." I shake my head and he gives me a faint grin. I blush unintentionally.

"Oh, no worries. I'm fodder for the bimbos tonight." He comments, obviously trying to get a reaction out of me. "See, me and Dick, we're having a little party tonight. You're invited, you know." He hints.

"Damn." I snap my fingers. "I didn't even get a text. Too late to RSVP." I joke with a nonchalant shrug of my shoulders.

"It's never too late to RSVP with me." He says gently.

"It's no matter, anyhow. I've promised _Backup_ I'd come home at a decent time tonight." I smirk. Even Logan can tell its really not Backup I'm referring to.

"Your ice cream, miss?" A voice speaks and holds out a hand for my Chunky Monkey. I grin at its speaker.

"Weevil. How are you? How was your summer?" Frankly, I'm surprised. Weevil has never really seemed like a cashier, more like the person holding the place up. But, I suppose he's at least semi-reformed. In his green polo and with a nametag stating "Hello, my name is Eli Navarro. How may I serve you?", he's much less threatening.

"Good, V." He pauses "Logan." He notes my accidental companion with a nod.

"Do they hire felons now? What about that pesky little mission statement, huh? Family, Fun, and Food?" Logan asks sarcastically and I shoot him a dirty look.

Weevil scans my debit card as he ignores Logan's question. He hands it back and politely says, "Here's your receipt. See you around, Veronica."

"Well, okay, see you later…and Logan, don't have too much _fun_ tonight." I say softly and leave the store.

As I make that long walk to my car in the parking lot, my heart is pounding.

* * *

**Author's Note:** Don't worry, there'll be a confrontation soon. You know I wouldn't let them get away with it that easily. lol. Plus, hopefully I'll be able to write in Mac and all those other characters you love so much. : 


	5. This Will Be Our Year

"Stuffed suitcase?" I ask Wallace over the phone. He had me promise (an actual pinky promise, but he's too much of a manly man to admit it) that I'd help him remember everything before he moved in.

"Check."

"New fridge and microwave set courtesy of Mommy Dearest?"

"Check."

"Precious Air Jordans?" I can hear his chuckle.

"_Double_ check."

"Okay, well, I'll come by later with some sustenance. Peace out, Fennell." I smile as I hang up the phone. School starts in two days and I'm already exhausted. However, since today is the newly instated Underclassmen Move day at Hearst, I stupidly promised Wallace I'd help out. I'd offered to Mac too, but she's strangely avoiding my phone calls. Either Parker brainwashed her or Max did. I'd really not be terribly surprised with either. From the one voicemail message she's left me these past few weeks, I've gathered that she's got a single room this year and therefore would not require my help.

* * *

I get to Wallace's dorm number and knock on the door. "Come on in, Mars." I can hear him laugh from inside. I enter and my eyes focus immediately to him lounging on his bed as his packing boxes are just sitting there. Hours upon hours have passed and they're still just sitting there. Untouched. 

"Come on, lazy bones." I urge as he scrambles off the bed. Scoping the perimeter, I see a light brown-haired guy. As he turns around in his game of hacky-sack, my jaw drops. Troy? As in Troy Vandergraff? My supposedly "reformed" drug dealer ex-boyfriend with an extremely seedy past?

What's up with all of the coincidental meetings? Is this entire year just destined to suck? I pull Wallace into the hall and close the door.

"Troy Vandergraff?" I pause: frantic, embarrassed. "What happened to Piz?"

"Dude's cool, but man, he snores like a freight train. I did random assignment this year." Wallace says nonchalantly with a shrug of his shoulders.

"But, Troy…God, Wallace, you couldn't have at least called me before I got blind sighted?" I grumble, uncomfortably crossing my arms.

"He told me things were fine with y'all two. That he's sober and on the straight and narrow for the foreseeable future, the whole deal." Wallace paused and looks at the bright green Tupperware container in my hands "Can I have some of those absolutely scrumptious snickerdoodles now?"

"What am I going to do, Wallace? Hold them hostage in my secret bat cave?" I hand him the box. The boy's so easy when it comes to baked goods. He immediately starts to eat and I roll my eyes. "Of course you can have them."

"V, just give him another chance, okay? I mean, you helped him out senior year, right?" He says through bites.

"Fine." I roll my eyes and hold up my hands in concession. "But, if he offers you any steroids dressed up as taffy, you come get me."

If Wallace thinks I'm going to simply "give Troy another chance" no strings attached, he's sorely mistaken.

* * *

An exact week after the official start of school, I find myself replacing a recently checked in book. I'm in the back of the library: the darkest corner, the most untouched and intellectual books. Go figure. 

I start to walk back to the circulation desk, only to be gingerly grabbed at the upper arm and moved into the science fiction section.

"Whoever you are, you've just completely screwed up my inner ear balance! I should totally sue." I say in a hushed whisper. It's Logan. Big surprise.

"Hi, there." He acts like he didn't just manhandle me. Typical Logan. We haven't had an encounter since he came to the library for a booklist. Okay, besides that little semi-flirtation at the grocery store.

"What do you think you're you doing? You can't just kidnap a library assistant." I smirk, nervous.

"This isn't a kidnapping." He attempts to reassure me. I raise a quizzical eyebrow in response. "It's a summit, if you will." His hand is still on my arm, warm and tender.

"And the subject of this summit is? Don't be coy with me, Echolls."

"That night." He says bluntly and looks me straight in the eye. I hate it when he does that. I feel like there's nothing I can do to escape. I've always been an amazing runner, both figuratively and in the actual sense, especially when things get tough, not to mention _awkward_. He removes his hand cautiously.

"Logan…" I trail off, focusing on the warmth his fingers left on my arm.

"You owe me an explanation." He replies.

I stare blankly back._ Put me on the spot, why don't you?_ I should've expected Logan's own brand of "intervention" sooner or later.

I can see the frustration on his face as he says "I know you're 'doing whatever'. But, doing it for months is a little excessive, don't you think? There gets to be a point where 'doing whatever' is all you are." He pauses "You owe me a _coherent_ explanation, Veronica Mars." He's trying to psychoanalyze me, and sadly I'm cracking under the pressure.

"How about I downed some serious Smirnoff and decided to throw myself at you? Does that suffice?" I say as my eyes are surprisingly brim with tears.

"Veronica, don't you dare try and pigeon-hole this one. Why can't you just tell me the truth?" His eyes are dark and tired and angry. Despite that tough guy image, I know he's at least partly upset from the slight twitch on his lip. I'm a natural-born profiler, baby.

"Because the truth isn't exactly the easiest thing, Logan." I reply softly, trying to reason as I hesitate to look him in the eye. Finally, I look up. "You know I broke it off with Piz that day. But it wasn't rebound, okay? I've already told you that."

"Then what was it?" I can tell he's genuinely confused.

My cheeks burn "I wanted to see you before I left." I say finally. My shoulders instantly feel lighter, but I'm still achy and uncomfortable.

"We had an amazing night, and then you were just … gone." He shakes his head tiredly. "Then I couldn't find you anywhere. You didn't answer my calls, anything. You did a Houdini on me, Ronnie." His voice sounds so tired. The Ronnie stings and I wince involuntarily.

"I'm sorry." I say genuinely. "I'm _here_ right now. No astounding feats of magic involved." I look him in the eye nervously, biting my lip.

He considers it for a moment and then his eyes brighten up. Admittedly, he's more understanding than I'd expected him to be. Could things really be that easy? He inches closer and hugs me close. I burrow my face into his chest and I look up into his eyes again. They're curious and I can only match his stare. Our lips meet and it feels like it always did. His lips are soft and moist and I have a notion that he just put on Chap Stick. The cherry kind. He used to jokingly say that it made him feel "girly". I fiddle in his left pocket and pull out the magenta tube. "I knew it. You macho men with your _fruity_ lip balm." I give a guilty grin and a trademark head tilt as we pull away.

"You know, I switched to mint for awhile. I suppose it was an ill-fated attempt to cover up morning breath." He smirks, holding my hand loosely. "When do you get off work?"

I check my snazzy new watch and confidently say "Twenty-three minutes and counting".

* * *

**Author's Note: **I hope that didn't disappoint. In the next few chapters, I promise there'll be an awkward Troy interaction and an appearance by Mac as well as Mr. Mars:) 


	6. One for the Saints, Two for the Sinners

It's sunny and a beautiful day out on the water. It's the first time I've actually been to the Albacore Club. The last time I'd been invited was junior year. However, I was seriously pissed at Logan that time and neglected to show up. We're secretive again…and _it's never felt so good. _

"I thought I told you to wear a sweater set!" Logan calls from what I assume is his boat.

"Mine are all at the cleaners." I reply with a playful snap of my fingers, getting closer. He's dressed in a navy Ralph Lauren polo, appearing to be the perfect gentleman.

He lets me up and I take his hand smiling. "My-lady." He bows and leads me up onto the boat.

"Mm. The lap of luxury." I jokingly sit on his lap as I relax into him, legs crossed proper and prim.

"I knew you'd like it." He grins softly and I smile back, leaning my head against his shoulder.

"So what's up for this day on the high seas? Whale watching? Pillaging?" I pause, making a small hook with my finger "Argh."

"God, only you can make whale watching sound sexy…" He trails off, a small grin lighting up his features "But alas, alone time." He whispers into my ear.

"My favorite kind." I pause "Any ideas?"

"Well, I do have this fantasy."

"Pray tell?"

"Let's just say you're wearing a sailor's hat and nothing else –" I kiss him abruptly and he relaxes into it. I draw away and smirk. "So, it's a good idea?"

"Nope. I just wanted to shut you up."

"Cute." He rolls his eyes.

"You wanna know what I think is cute?" I put my arm gingerly around his neck. He awaits my answer "The fact that you're having sexy sailor dreams worthy of a thirteen year old, that's what's _cute_." I tease, wagging my free finger.

"Are you sure you're not interested? Because I'm fairly certain there's a hat around here somewhere…"

"That's a definite no." I reply, a smirk still dancing on my lips.

"We should go back to my place." He murmurs in my ear.

I shake my head "No dice, one: I'm fairly sure myself that my dad has connections on the Neptune Grand surveillance team, and two: isn't this much more fun? _Seclusion_ out on the water, the breeze in our hair?"

"You're trying to keep this all on the down low, huh?"

"I'm not quite ready to go back out there with all of this yet. With Piz, and Parker and everything…you know." I look back at him nervously and he simply gives back a knowing nod. "Except I heard Parker's transferring back to Denver, so that's one less worry?"

"Yeah." Logan says dismally.

"Just give me a little time." I reassure him.

* * *

The next morning I look in the mirror and my cheeks have a hint of sunburn on them_. Just great_. Dad's singing along to the oldies station in the living room. He must be cooking breakfast. We haven't really had any Daddy-daughter time since I got back. It's basically been brief discussion over our sleaziest cases and the typical "how was your day?" It's all rather shallow. I've been waiting till the right time to talk to him about Mom, but I don't know if that time will ever really come. 

I go into the living room and sit on the couch "Heya, Pops."

"Dearest Daughter." Dad gives a small grin as he turns on the stove. "What's up?"

I hesitate "I just, uh, need to tell you something."

He suddenly looks seriously at me "You're not pregnant, are you?"

"God, no…It's about Mom." _As if that's much better._

Dad sighs "What about her?" He takes his eye contact off me.

"I saw her this summer with the FBI. Just thought you should know."

He immediately looks me back in the eye. "You're not as sneaky as you'd like to think, honey. I know you've been in my safe." He shrugs.

"How-?"

"One plus one equals two, sweetheart." I cross my arms.

"Why didn't you tell me you were conducting an investigation on her?"

"Because, considering how rough the two of you'd been on each other, maybe it was a touchy subject?"

I simply nod and get my stuff together. "I've got some loose ends on a case that I need to take care of. Don't wait up tonight." I slam the door as I leave.

* * *

I at least partly told the truth. I am working on a "case", per se. I'm probably not justifiably mad at Dad. He's made so many sacrifices for me this year and I'm coming across as completely selfish. But that's how everyone sees me, isn't it? As I go down the dorm hall, I get slut sneezes and dirty looks everywhere. It's just like high school. Apparently the buzz over my not quite "sex tape" still hasn't gone down. Fabulous. 

I talked to the Room Advisor and got Mac's room number. I arrive outside room 2515 and hear the faint pulse of music. I knock twice. "Mac! I know you're in there!"

I hear a scramble, a door slam, and suddenly a frenzied voice "Wait a minute, Veronica!" After a minute, she opens the door, looking nervous. She's definitely got something or _someone _to hide.

"What was that all about?"

"Uh, nothing." She says quietly and we sit on her bed, which appears to be hastily made up. There's a light scent of Old Spice wafting through the room.

"Please tell me it's Max in your closet." I whisper. Max isn't really an Old Spice guy. He seems to be more of an aftershave-and-go guy.

She clears her throat. "Max and I broke up." She crosses her arms uncomfortably.

"If that's indeed true, who gets the immense pleasure of being crammed in that closet?" I cross my fingers.

"Don't kill me, okay?" Mac pauses and whispers the name in my ear. I'm completely horrified.

I gasp and suddenly go into my game show announcer voice "Dick Casablancas, come on out!" The irony of the action isn't lost on me, despite its figurative meaning.

Dick fumbles out of the closet, wrapped up in a Neptune Grand robe. God knows how it got here.

"What are you thinking?" I hiss at Mac. She hates him, _right_?

"Well now, if it isn't the pot calling the kettle black?" Dick crosses his arms snottily, sitting in Mac's desk chair.

"Okay, so now it's clear you have an Idiom of the Day desk calendar…but, do you know what it means?" I snort back at him.

"Logan had Ronnie-face yesterday. You two got it on again, didn't you?"

Mac simply sits there in amused silence.

"We certainly did not 'get it on', _Richard_." Which is true, in part. We haven't hooked up since that night this summer. Yesterday was just a nice, comfortable make out session.

"Guys, stop it!" Mac interrupts before I prepare myself to lunge at Dick.

"Is _this_ why you've been avoiding me?" I target her as I point accusingly at him.

She nods wordlessly. Then she hesitates "I was afraid you wouldn't understand."

"_I still don't_." I reply bluntly and then reconsider the harshness in it. "Girls' night later this week?"

"Yeah. I'll call you."

Shaking my head confusedly, I leave the room.

* * *

I know it's pretty short :(. Next chapter will include a Piz interaction, I hope.

In case you haven't noticed, the chapter titles are song names. Here are the song credits:

Long Time Coming - The Delays

Undeniable - Mat Kearney

Foundations - Kate Nash

Bend and Not Break - Dashboard Confessional

This Will Be Our Year - OK Go

One for the Saints, Two for the Sinners - Hope Kills

Story Title: Colorblind - Counting Crows


	7. Fidelity

I'm supposed to meet Logan for a "friendly lunch", as he put it. I dazedly walk through the line to get my food. I end up with an extremely sloppy Sloppy Joe and some soggy looking French fries. _Oh, the appeal of school food._

I hear a few light giggles and ignore them. Probably an impressionable freshman throwing herself at a frat boy. I check out and lazily walk over to the table Logan and I typically share.

I swirl my fries in the ketchup slowly as I wait. He finally shows, but not alone. He sits and I give him a dark glare and then notice his bubbly companion. It's Hannah Griffith. As in the girl that got sent to boarding school after Logan shamelessly played her. She's certainly not a Hearst student. Isn't she supposed to be in Vermont?

"Daddy totally doesn't know I'm here! Isn't that great?" She asks him as she sits too close, putting her manicured fingers all over his arm. "My boarding school was doing a college tour thing and this is one of the stops. I ditched!" She squeals and I get uncomfortable. Logan gives me a half-hearted apology in one look.

"That's, uh, great." He crosses his arms, shaking off her grasp, and my cheeks flame.

Hannah finally acknowledges me. "Hey, you're that P.I. girl, right?"

I simply nod. "Yep, that's me."

"Your name is…Veronica Mars, isn't it?" Again, I nod. "How do you know Logan? He like, never mentioned you." She squeals again and I look at him for an answer. _What are we exactly?_

He doesn't even attempt answer and I finally do, choked up. "We're, uh, just friends." I clear my throat awkwardly as his face falls, disappointed. "If you'll excuse me, I have to go to class." I pick up my tray, almost completely finished and walk to the trashcan. I feel as if I'm going to cry. Hurriedly, I empty it clumsily and stride into the hall.

* * *

As my peers file into that pesky upper level English II class I'm obligated to take, my cell vibrates in my pocket. _Incoming Call: Logan Echolls_. I regretfully hit ignore and take my seat. If his behavior in the cafeteria is any indication of what his call would be like, I'm totally not interested. He can wait.

Apparently my new professor Roy Nickerson spent his summer in the Bahamas, shacked up with his mistress slash former T.A. Philippa Drexler. Should be interesting. It's inching toward 2:00 now.

"Is this seat taken?" A voice asks reluctantly.

"Nope. Knock yourself out." I look up to see Troy and nod, trying to be accommodating.

He sits and sets up the fold out desk. He finally whispers in my ear "So…you and Logan?"

I scoff, nervous. "You're a few years late on that news bulletin."

"Lest you forget my family has a slip down at the marina. Not to mention a boat." He hints, a smirk painted maliciously on his lips.

I blush crimson. "You don't know what you're talking about, Troy." I say in a hushed whisper.

"Wallace gave me the impression that you two had a fiery blowup at the end of last school year."

"I'm under the impression that this couldn't possibly be less of your business_, aren't you_?" I bite back.

"Fine. Fine…another topic, then. How was your summer?"

"Great." I lie gruffly. "Yours?"

Thankfully, or grueling conversation is interrupted by Professor Nickerson as today's lecture begins.

* * *

After class I listen to Logan's voicemail.

"_Hey Veronica. I know you ignored my call. I'm not stupid. Okay, not completely anyway. I know I was an ass today at lunch and I'd really like to make up for it. Hannah just showed and I basically panicked. I'm sorry. Give me another chance, okay? How about dinner on the boardwalk? Tomorrow night, say 8:00? Please show. Love you. Logan." _

Smiling, I press end. As I hit redial, my phone dings, claiming that it's looking for service. _Damn._

Regrettably I don't have time for a lengthy conversation. I'm supposed to be tailing a supposedly philandering husband as I speak. The man in question has apparently been spending copious amounts of time with his tennis instructor, who's apparently leggy, fit, and bleached blonde.

I sit in the stands, complete in a pink Nike tennis outfit. I'm supposed to be waiting for my chronically late boyfriend. The "unfaithful scum of a man" is almost about 30 years his instructor's senior. They look alike too. Dimples. Toothy smile.

My suspicions are confirmed as she yells out "Good hit, Dad!"

She's gonna be so _pissed_ when she finds out it's _just_ an illegitimate child and not a violation of their pre-nup.

* * *

I enter the Neptune Grand and a weird bout of Déjà vu comes over me. I haven't been there in months. I'm not even here for Logan tonight. Tonight is Girls' Night with Mac. According to her, this is a make-up for the complete lack of girl time we've had this summer. Construed by me, it's an awesome apology and an excuse not to go back to the apartment. She rented the cheapest room in the place and bribed Jeff Ratner. In exchange for computer repair, he'll swing us some free room service and a few rounds of strawberry daiquiris. Apparently at first, he protested and refused to aide and abet minors, especially me. However, Mac decided to up the ante and he agreed. Plus, it also helps that he won't have it pinned on him if we are in fact caught. Our fake I.D.s are pretty legit, if I do say so myself.

As I look around the lobby, I catch a glimpse of Piz and the girl from the radio station, Trish, having dinner in the restaurant. It's extremely cute and I'm proud for him. He looks my way and I nod and give him a congratulatory thumb's up. With a brief weak smile directed at me, he turns back to his date. She looks totally into him. _Bow chicka wah wah._

I go to the elevator and press the illuminated up-arrow button. After a minute, the elevator opens and Logan's on the other side. I give him a soft smile as a stuffy man in a suit starts to step out. Reeking of Drakkar Noir, he stamps away and I warily wait at the elevator entrance.

"Hop in, Bobcat." Logan grins wistfully and I enter. As the doors close and we're alone, he comments, "I was just about to go see you. Make sure you got my message." I press floor 4 as he says it.

"I did. I was just really busy-" I try to reason, knowing resistance is futile. I can feel the blush rising on my cheeks.

"You don't have to make excuses. I'm the one that screwed up." He says gently as he puts his hands awkwardly in his pockets.

"No, you didn't. Not completely." I whisper with an odd finality, instantly forgiving him. I press all the buttons on the panel and watch as they all light up. He glances at me, surprised.

"What about your Dad's connections in security? Should I go find a safe house?" He gulps nervously but there's a naughty sparkle glimmering in his eye.

"He's out of town…" I trail off, putting my hands on his chest softly. "Besides, I don't think we have anything to hide." I get up on my tiptoes to kiss him lightly. "Not anymore."

"Is that a yes for tomorrow night, then?" He asks tenderly as we pull apart.

"That's a definite yes." I say finally. Reaching into my pocket, I text Mac.

"_Traffic delay. Will be there shortly." _And I will. A few more minutes and an explanation as to why I won't follow him up to the suite, and I'm totally in gear for girls' night.

One teensy white lie won't hurt, will it?


	8. Something to Believe In

The night was fun. A few movies and free room service later and the next thing you know, it's morning. I'm in a deep slumber, immersed in a dream about the Fab Four, when my phone buzzes me back to reality. The reality is that I got completely wasted and have become hopelessly hung-over.

Drearily I look at the screen. _Unknown Number_. I curse and answer the phone, my voice lazy. "Hello?"

"Ms. Mars?"

"Who may I ask is calling?" I rub my eyes as I take the call into the bathroom so I don't wake Mac.

"Ms. Mars, it's Principal Van Clemmons. I'm afraid that I require your expertise."

"Mr. C! What do you need help with?" I suddenly focus and sit on top of the closed toilet seat.

"It seems, er…that Polly's flown away…or been let free, one of the two."

"Will the administration ever learn? You need to plan a GPS tracker on that precious parrot."

Van Clemmons offers and awkward laugh "So, Veronica, will you help your alma mater?"

"I can try." I reply gently.

"That's all I can ask." He notes and the dial tone blares in my ear.

Shaking my head, I come back out. I take the elevator up to the penthouse after saying goodbye to a very cranky Mac. Logan answers and I offer up a weak smile and I lean against the doorframe.

I yawn and he squints his eyes "You just gonna stand there and smell like cheap booze and Lip Smackers or come on in?"

"Mhm." I nod, apparently not answering his question. I'm just so tired. He shakes his head curiously and lets me in. "I can't go home." I yawn again and he leads me to his bed to lay down.

"Daddy Mars would _not_ be happy." Logan jokes and helps me up onto the bed. He kisses my forehead gently "You're even cute when you're hung-over, you know that?" He starts to turn and leave the room.

"Stay with me." I whisper as I fall asleep.

* * *

I mosey into the break room at Henderson's Grocery and take my seat next to Weevil. He's eating a roast beef sandwich from the deli. Taking in my smiling face, he shakes his head.

"What? You need a favor?" He smirks as he wipes the mayo off his chin.

"Mm. Nope." I give him my trademark head tilt and he sighs tiredly.

"Seriously. You need a favor, just come out with it. No head tilt." He replies, his forehead wrinkled. "Though, don't know how much help I'll be. In case you haven't heard, I'm on the straight and narrow now."

I snap my fingers with a sly smile "But the head tilt is so much fun." I pause and he groans "I'm kidding, Weevs. Just wanted to have lunch with a friend." I smile and take one of his potato chips.

"If you wanted lunch with a friend, why didn't you call up that Waldo guy?"

"It's Wallace and he's working on some project for Engineering."

"Ah, I see. I'm last resort."

"God, Eli, I don't know how we'll ever be friends if you're going be this bitter." I say sarcastically. "And no, you weren't last resort. I mean, I called you before I even called Mac or Logan. Feel important." He flinches at Logan's name and I shrug.

"Hm. Okay." He finally smiles and we continue to talk during his break.

"So, uh, why the new job? I thought Hearst took you back after the whole fake I.D. scam?" I snatch another chip and crunch along.

"Oh, you know, hot shot rich kids think they can treat maintenance like the dirt under their penny loafers. A few too many racial slurs and I threatened one of the twerps." He shrugs and leans back in his chair casually.

"Ah, too bad. I've missed your bright, shining…" I trail off as I focus on the top of his head "_face_ on campus."

* * *

"Are you going to at least give me a hint about what our costumes will entail? Fabric details? Color?" Logan had decided to let me decide our Halloween costumes this year. Now, of course, I'm sure he's come to regret it.

"On second thought, there is no costume. You can go nude." I tease as I look through the racks of Halloween costumes at a local boutique known for its slutty appeal.

"Hm." He pauses and then flippantly says, "I'm sure you'd love that."

"Oh, you know I would, but I think we have an obligation to your party guests to not go completely Adam and Eve."

"Wait, is that-?"

"No!" I laugh in the phone at his confusion. "It's definitely not." I shake my head.

"I still don't think it's terribly fair that you won't let me know what our costumes are gonna be…" Logan whines and unbeknownst to him, I'm sticking out my tongue on the other side.

"Chill, Sugarlips." Finally I see my costume and smile mischievously to myself. "Found it." Fingering the red felt material, I almost miss his answer.

"Okay…remember to show at my place by 6:00, okay?"

"I thought the party started at 8:00…?"

"It does." He flirts back and I involuntarily blush.

"I'm hanging up now." I giggle and press end as he protests.

* * *

I _was_ having a rollicking good time. I _was_ enjoying the festivities and fully cherishing the ranch dip Mac made. But now…eh, not so much. I'm holed up in the only bathroom, feeling thoroughly ill.

"Come on out, Ronnie." Logan knocks, obviously worried "I'll drive you home if you want."

And leave your party guests to trash the place? No thanks.

Wanna know why I'm feeling so sick and antisocial? Ask Madison Sinclair and Troy Vandergraff. They're the two uninvited guests that drove me to insanity. Better yet, they showed up together. _Together_. As in arm and arm, using completely inappropriate body language. I swear I gagged on my Diet Coke right then and there. I quietly excused myself and here I am. Stomach churning.

"No. It's fine. I'm coming out." I reply weakly as I rinse my hands and swish some Listerine. Finally I open the door and flash a plastic smile at my boyfriend.

"You sure you're okay?" He asks gently, bunching his eyebrows.

"Mhm." I nod, surely not convincingly. "What happened to your wolf ears?" I immediately focus on his hair.

He ruffles his it and frowns. "Guess Dick must've stolen them."

"For shame." I reply and kiss his cheek.

"You're totally working that Little Red Riding Hood look." He whispers in my ear.

"Don't I know it?" I joke as I finger the hem of my costume.

He smirks and we go back into the party. Upon the sight of Madison gyrating on the dance floor, I calmly say, "God, I need some water."

"I think there's still some in the cooler." His lip is curling in disgust at her actions. Thank God.

"Thanks." I go to the cooler. No dice. I'm seriously craving some Ozarka, not cheap tap water from the sink. I go back to him and say I'm going to search for a vending machine. He simply nods and goes back to an assuredly deep conversation with John Enbom.

As I leave the room, I walk down the hall to the elevator. A voice follows me.

"Hey, Veronica, wait up!" Troy shouts and gets in with me.

"So…you and Madison, huh?" I smirk as he drunkenly fiddles for a floor number. He's dressed a police officer. Madison came as a prisoner. Hilarious.

"Yeah. Saw her at the Marina." He shrugs.

"Getting a little desperate, are we?" I laugh, trying to be civil.

"Well, you know, there was this other girl that I thought about asking. But, yeah, she's got a boyfriend." He looks pointedly at me. My jaw drops as we hit the floor he pressed. I get out immediately and address him firmly.

"Look, Troy, I don't know what kind of impression-"

"I made a mistake, Veronica." He pauses and mulls it over as he gets out too. He's got me cornered, and it's seriously giving me the chills…and not the good kind. "Okay, a lot of them. But I was _never_ wrong about you." Suddenly, his arms are around my waist and his mouth crashes down on mine. It's incredibly wrong and awkward and I get out of his possessively harsh grasp. As I turn and get away from him, he yells angrily "Veronica, you don't belong with Logan-!"

"Leave me alone, Troy." I grit out, turning the corner. I shove my dollar in the machine, snatch my bottled water and take the stairs back to the penthouse. I certainly don't want to run into him again. Not ever.

* * *

The next morning I wake up to the soft morning light and Logan's arms casually around my waist. I turn over and towards him and his eyes open.

"Morning." He regards me softly and gets up. He gets up and stretches, my eyes following him. "You checking out my butt, Mars?"

"Mm. Never." I reply jokingly in a quiet voice with a small smile.

"So, uh, what was up with you last night? After you got your water, you were really quiet." He asks me hesitantly, concern evident in his voice. He pulls on a t-shirt.

"Don't get mad." I warn in advance.

"Why would I-?" He frowns and sits next to me, now fully clothed.

"Troy hit on me last night." Logan scoffs under his breath, his jaw set. "Not corny pickup lines, like_ he_ _really hit on me_. He tried to kiss me, Logan…and I got away from him as soon as possible." I feel sick to my stomach. I can see the anger spark in his eyes. "Don't do anything you'll regret, okay? I know you…"

"I'm not gonna regret anything, Veronica. Don't you worry about that", He balls his hand into a fist and I look over at him, nervous. He's never really been fond of Troy, and what I've said just sent him spinning.

"Logan, don't – "

"You expect me to keep cool when he touched you like that?" He looks at me, incredulous. Honestly, I hadn't.

"I knew I shouldn't have told you. I should've known you'd go on a man hunt." I shake my head angrily.

"Yeah. Maybe you shouldn't have." He gets up and paces angrily.

"Don't do anything rash. He's not worth it." I cautiously warn.

"Oh, _he's definitely worth it_. But, don't worry; I'll just get my point across. Nothing too major." 'Too major'? To Logan, too major consists of murder or someone getting paralyzed. Once his fists of fury get to pummeling, there's not much stopping them.

"Nothing like what you did to Piz. Right, Logan?" I force eye contact and clarify. He automatically settles down.

"No. Nothing like what I did to Piz." He finally says guiltily and gives me a chaste kiss on the forehead.

* * *

The next morning it's stormy. Sitting by myself in the cafeteria, I wait for Logan to show, like usual. I sip my smoothie and eat my sloppy strawberry crepes. The cafeteria is practically empty but there's a smattering of blubbering frat boys in the corner and the hangers-on close by.

Every now and then, they look over and guffaw. Probably talking yet again about my leaked video. Despite the fact that it's been deleted off multiple servers for its "unsuitable content", I'm sure the sex-crazed boys of the school still have it on playback in their dirty minds. The thought is purely sickening. I hear another guffaw and flip off its owner. I hear a "bitchhh" in a hushed whisper and smile to myself.

"Now, now. No need to get inappropriate." Logan says finally as we sit across the table from one another. "Except with me", He adds in a low tone.

"Very funny." I scoff and look him over. There's a ghost of a bruise on his cheekbone and a purple outline around his right eye. His knuckles are also bruised. "Well, look at you…" I shake my head unhappily.

"You should see the other guy." He attempts to make fun and I only match him with a dark glare.

"Nothing too major, right?" I sarcastically bite back and gently segue into a teasing tone. "You know, people are starting to say you're hot-tempered."

"Exactly, Veronica. I took it easy on him." He insists and I look at him skeptically. Finally, I sigh.

"Hm. You want some company tonight?" I offer generously.

"A little TLC?" He whispers as we lean across the table for a kiss. Catcalls and jeers immediately arise.

"I think I can manage that." I smile back.

"You can manage a lot more than-" Suddenly, we both look in surprise as Sheriff Van Lowe walks in with Sacks. God, just thinking it makes me ill. The thought of Vinnie as Sheriff is simply ridiculous. This is the same cheese-ball that has had extremely illegal dealings with the Fitzpatricks, among other lowlifes. Oh yeah, not to mention that he's been a thorn in my family's side for years.

He comes over to our table and stands there expectantly.

"Want some exotic cuisine, Vinnie?" I point at the remnants of my crepe.

"No, thank you, Ms. Mars. And it's Sheriff Van Lowe now, in case you missed the memo." The arrogance in his voice angers me and Logan simply watches in amusement at our banter.

"You here for business or pleasure? I mean…Holy Crepe is like _really_ good."

"Business and pleasure, Veronica." He says snottily as he then focuses on Logan. "Cuff him, Sacks." Logan looks confused as Sacks tightens the silver handcuffs rudely around his wrists. "Logan Echolls, you're under arrest for the murder of Troy Vandergraff. You have the right to be silent…"

Defying logic and sensibility, Logan yells out scathingly "What the hell is this? Am I this town's scapegoat now? I didn't murder him, I swear."

I can only look on numbly as he's carried away. Only when I'm back in my car do I break into tears.

* * *

A longer chapter, for sure!!! 

Song credits:

Fidelity - Regina Spektor

Something to Believe In - Aqualung


	9. Against All Odds

What do you do when your boyfriend's in jail for yet another murder he didn't commit? Look for Neptune's own Polly the Parrot, that's what.

Distracting myself from the stress of Logan's arrest and the otherwise eerily calm day, I search multiple pet stores across Balboa County. No signature green and yellow parrot to be found. The idea that I could find an unmarked exotic bird was ultimately a long shot. I'm sure Van Clemmons knows that. However, you've got to admire the man's school spirit.

On top of the pet stores, I've checked breeders and shelters also. No dice.

Wallace was one of Polly's buddies. Maybe I should talk to him, although…he might not be much up for a hearty BFF discussion over kidnapped school mascots. After all, his roommate was just murdered. Knowing that his dorm is off limits due to the fact that it's a crime scene, I take the trip back to the Fennell homestead.

After an extremely awkward interaction with Ms. Fennell at the door, I finally go back to Wallace's room. He's laid down on his bed, eyes closed. His Ipod is pumping away. I nestle down next to him on the bed and playfully nudge him in the side.

"Hey, V." He says tiredly and pulls out his earphones.

"Hey, buddy." I drawl.

"What's up?" A loaded question, to be sure.

"I'm so sorry about Troy." I say finally, wincing.

"Hm. You know, that's the fiftieth time I've heard that today." He scoffs uncomfortably, his jaw set.

"Van Lowe arrested Logan in the cafeteria this morning. I was there." I say plainly. Noticing the blank, pale look on Wallace's face, I bite out pleadingly "Please tell me you don't think he did it." I suddenly become withdrawn, upset.

"No, I don't think Logan murdered him. He's not that guy. You, out of everyone, should know that."

"I know, Wallace." I whisper, my throat aching. I feel like I'm going to fall into a fit of sobs again. I wipe my eyes as I note, "If only I hadn't told him that Troy had gone after me, he wouldn't be-"

"Don't guilt yourself, okay?" Wallace attempts to console me. Our roles have suddenly reversed. "We both know you'll get up to that Veronica magic you do so well, and get the real guy in jail…Logan knows that."

"I don't know what I'd do if anything ever happened to you, BFF." I reply, tears cascading.

"Let's not find out."

* * *

Fresh from a decent night's sleep, I go by the Sheriff's department before my Theology class. Thankfully, Ol' Deputy Leo's at the desk.

"Hey, Veronica." He says gently as I come in.

"Howdy, Deputy." I reply as I come up to talk to him.

"You here for a chat? I'm off in 10 minutes." He asks hopefully and I answer with raised eyebrows. "Thought not."

"Can you do me a few _teensy_ favors?" He winces, which honestly isn't entirely unexpected.

"How teensy are these favors, Veronica?"

"Um, could you take me back to see Logan?" I pause, noticing the unfavorable expression on his face. He finally nods hesitantly.

"And the other…?"

"Can I see the report on Troy Vandergraff? A photocopy?"

"You're gonna need to fill out a request form." He says drawlingly as he leads me to Logan's cell and guards the door.

Logan stretches and gets off his cot.

"Hey, Jailbird." I say softly.

"Ronnie…" He says, noting the sad look on my face.

"Don't, Logan." I reply, wiping my eyes. "Don't you dare get a teardrop tattoo… please, please don't go all Crybaby on me."

"But, I've already talked to my cellmate about it. He's got a ballpoint pen perfect for marring this hot piece of flesh." He jokes, pointing next to his eye. His cellmate grunts and I weakly smile.

"I'm gonna get you out of here, you know that?" I hold his hand loosely through the bars. Leo doesn't reprimand us.

"I know." He grins confidently.

"I'll be back for details and we'll find whoever did this. They're gonna fry. I swear it." I put my free hand on my heart.

"I love you." He simply replies in amazement.

"I love you too." I finally say. About to bawl, I let go, flash him a fighting smile, and let Leo lead me out.

* * *

I enter the apartment quietly and my father greets me.

"Oh, honey, I heard about Logan and Troy." He tries to comfort me and I sit down on the couch.

"Logan didn't do it. He promised me-" I vehemently insist.

"I know, Sweetheart." Despite our lack of heart-to-hearts lately, he still knows how to suck me in.

I lean my head on his shoulders and blubber for what seems like an eternity. I finally slap the case file on the coffee table.

"You got a copy?"

"Leo made it for me." I reply throatily.

Dad scans it briefly and frowns.

"What is it?" I ask.

"They didn't find a body." His eyebrows knit.

"So it's possible he's been kidnapped?"

"Possible, but unlikely, honey. They've got Logan on some hard evidence though."

"What? A confession left in scary magazine letters?"

"They found some of his blood in the dorm room, it was on one of Troy's shirts. There was blood everywhere, both his and some of Troy's, and a gun on the bed."

"When I saw Logan, he didn't really have many scratches, except maybe his knuckles. The rest were pretty nasty bruises." I shake my head.

"Someone's framed him." My dear father says bluntly. Sometimes you've just gotta love his honesty.

"Obviously. But who?" I scoff. Logan's made enemies aplenty at Hearst and in the community. I'm sure quite a few people would like to see him dead or at least incarcerated. However, only one really stands out in my mind. Gory Sorokin.


	10. The Best Deceptions

Should I really be surprised? After all, Gory did promise Logan was going to die. That's a threat on wellbeing if I ever saw one. Besides the infamous beat down in the cafeteria, how are the three connected? Would Gory really follow his patriarch's fine example and actually commit a horrible murder, stashing the body at some mystery cabin on the water?

Confused and fumbling for answers, I look up "Sorokin" on Google. L.T. Vandergraff comes up among the numerous results. _Bingo._ Apparently Gory's murderous father works in marketing for L.T.'s architectural firm. A mere coincidence? I think not.

Clicking through the website, I end up in a photo gallery detailing last year's annual Vandergraff Barbeque. As predicted, there's a photo of Troy and Gory thoroughly enjoying some assuredly delicious barbeque ribs.

Although it's doubtful Gory brutally murdered his childhood friend and blamed it on Logan, it's worth a look.

* * *

Breathing deeply as I knock on Gory's door, I try to remind myself that it's all for the greater good. I remember the wave of nausea came over me the last time I'd paid him a visit. _Please wear actual clothes this time?_

Gory answers and looks me up and down. "So, Ver-on-ica. Heard your boy-toy's in the slammer, here to move onto _bigger _and _better _things?" He asks suggestively and I inwardly shudder.

"It just gets so lonely, Gory. I don't know what to say." I meekly reply, putting off a desperate vibe.

"Why don't you come on in? We can share a cocktail or two…maybe talk about it?" Reluctantly, I enter and sit down in his desk chair. Once the door's slammed, Gory squints his eyes suspiciously. "What's this really about? Huh, Mars?"

"Oh, you know, just wanted to give my condolences." I say flippantly.

"Condolences? What for? Being a merciless bitch?"

"No, actually, _Gorya_. For your buddy Troy, you know, the one that got murdered?"

"What are you talking about? I didn't know that kid." Gory replies slickly.

"Funny, I was under the assumption you did. Besides the fact that your father and his father work together, you two socialized at last year's Vandergraff Barbeque."

"You don't know what you're talking about." He crosses his arm confidently as he paces.

Giving him an all-knowing look, I reply harshly "Actually, Gory, I know a lot more than you think." _Or I will. _As he's continually pacing, I slip a bug conspicuously into the back corner of his desk.

* * *

Among even more disgusting things is my long overdue visit to the new sheriff. I'm claiming to be doing a story for the Hearst Free Press, but somehow I'm sure Vinnie'll see through that.

Spinning in his desk chair, I wait for him to enter.

"Who let you in?" He sneers.

"That'd be, uh, Sacks. You know the deputy up front?" I smirk and get up, leaving the seat empty for him.

"Remind me to fire him." He pauses "Not that I mind a little chat, Veronica, I just need some better security. Laser beams, the lot, you know… So, is this friendly visit really for the newspaper or for your beau?"

"Hm. Both, actually."

"Shoot."

"What evidence do you have to prove this is a murder and not instead a kidnapping? According to the case report, there wasn't a body found on the premises."

"The massive amount of blood at the scene and the presence of a gun indeed qualifies this as a murder investigation."

"But, _Sheriff_, apparently there weren't any open wounds on the suspect…is there a possibility that he could've been framed?"

"We're looking into all possibilities. But for the time being, the blood has been identified as Mr. Echolls'."

"Off the record now: Vinnie, do you honestly believe Logan did it? It seems like a serious frame job."

"We're just following evidence, Veronica. Simple as that." He pauses "Also, it's been brought to our attention that the two had an altercation outside a local bar prior to the time of death. Logan's got motive."

I blush and he looks at me intently "Now what do _you_ know?"

"Troy hit on me and I told Logan. I also told him not to be stupid, not to take it too far. He swore to me he wouldn't. God help me, but I believe him." I reply gently as I force eye contact "I've known him since I was twelve years old, Vinnie. He's no murderer."

After a true heart-to-heart with Vinnie, I go on back to see Logan.

"Hello, my lady love."

I pull up a chair outside the bars. "Talked to the sheriff and my dad about it, Logan, they've got you on some pretty solid evidence."

"Yeah, Cliff told me…" He shakes his head. "Some blood I didn't even shed and a gun that somehow had my fingerprints all over it. I didn't even go up to that dorm room."

"That's what's got me confused… when I saw you, you didn't have any open wounds." I pause and an idea comes to me "Did you give blood this summer?"

He frowns and ponders the question "Yeah, Trina was doing some charity thing at the hospital and I gave some for the 'Be the Miracle' campaign." He rolls his eyes.

"When was this?"

"Uh, first week in June, I think. Trina conned me into it. Publicity crap, you know."

I nod knowingly. We all knew how Trina Echolls could be.

* * *

I look it up online and get a contact number.

"Hello, can I speak to Roberta Redden?" I put on a smooth, snobby voice.

"This is she. How may I help you?" The woman on the other side of the line asks curtly.

"Ms. Redden, this is Crystal Montclaire. I heard about the success you had with 'Be the Miracle' earlier this year, and I was just wondering if you had a faculty list? I'd like to do something similar myself."

"And a faculty list would help you how?" Suspicion laces her voice. Smart woman.

"I'd like a few personal perspectives so I can better lay out my own event. Is that too much trouble?" I add a slightly southern twang.

"Fine. Could I email it to you? I'm already on my office computer. I have the list in a Word document."

"Alright. That sounds fine. My email is have it to you shortly, Ms. Montclaire." With a curt reply, she hangs up.

A few minutes later, I get a reminder that I have mail. A full list is present in an attachment.

Only one name out of the whole bunch seems significant. Domonick Desante. Interesting.

After an hour of digging, I come up with this information: Domonick's at Hearst on a scholarship that requires him to do a certain amount of community service. He made the choice to volunteer at the hospital and draw blood on the very day Logan came in to donate. My guess is he somehow pocketed the blood he'd taken from Logan and given it to his buddy Gory. Talk about nastiness.

You know what they say: Friends that forward porn together stick together.

* * *

What do you think? REVIEW :) 


	11. Clarity

**AN**: Okay, so I know I just posted an update yesterday, but it was like all about the case. This one concludes the case and has a little more stuff in it. Hope you're not too disappointed :)

And no, this isn't the end. I'll keep updating with more stuff. Please review! They're greatly appreciated.

* * *

"Veronica!" echoes through the apartment and I rub my eyes lazily. It's 10:13; usually I'd be ready for action in my morning class, but today…it was thankfully cancelled.

I get up and stretch briefly before saying "Dad! Hold up, I'm coming!"

I enter the living room, offering a small yawn. He's leaning against the doorway looking scruffy…as if he's been up since four o'clock this morning. I wouldn't really be surprised if he had. He's been keeping some odd hours lately.

"Sup?" I offer jokingly.

"Consider this your early Christmas present." He finally grumbles sleepily.

"What? You could fit a pony on the balcony?" I reply, teasing him.

Simply shaking his head, he moves out of the doorway and instead of a pony, it's Logan. I grin wildly and we meet in a strong hug.

"Did they find the real murderer?" I ask anxiously. It's possible, but the feeling in my gut tells me otherwise.

"No. But, they _finally_ proved my alibi thanks to your Dad's connections at the Grand, which by the way, I'm now _happy_ he has." He offers up a token smirk. "They found some surveillance footage that proves I was up at the Grand at the estimated time of death."

"If you had an alibi…" I look at him confusedly.

"Oh you know, in our flawed Neptune justice system, you're guilty until proven innocent. Not the other way around." Despite his exhaustion, he looks almost happy.

We finally make our way back to my bedroom and fall down onto the bed. "You exhausted?" I ask gently as I pepper his neck with kisses.

He gives a simple nod in response. "Any leads?"

"Of course." I reply confidently.

* * *

As we both listen to surveillance from Gory's bug on my laptop, Logan's falling asleep, his head heavy on my shoulder. There's really no damning evidence as of yet. Suddenly my computer cheerily states "You've Got Mail!". Logan stirs and yawns.

"I miss anything?"

"Nope." I simply reply, tired. I lazily click and check my email. As previously stated, I had new mail. Or Crystal Montclaire did. One new message from Marcus Haney.

"Who's that?" Logan asks curiously.

"Nobody." I reply simply.

"You're gonna have to be a lot more convincing-"

"It's just a client…" I protest.

"Right." He finally says gruffly. "Seriously, who is it?"

I suddenly lower my voice to a hushed whisper and reply "Onutday."

"I'm pretty sure whoever you think might be listening understands pig-" Suddenly realization dawns "Oh."

"Don't worry about it." I insist.

"I'm not supposed to worry about my girlfriend communicating with a fugitive?"

"You know and I both know it's not just that he's a running from the law, Logan." I give him a skeptical glare. Dude's _still_ got some serious jealousy issues over the whole thing. He huffs grimly and I look him firmly in the eye. "Chill, I'm with you, remember? It's not like he and I are planning secret romantic rendezvous' or anything."

"I just-"

"Don't you dare get all insecure about this…about us." I instruct and he slowly nods. "After that summer, I just wanted some security and it just happened, okay? He saw me as the Veronica I wanted to be. The one who was a sheep, the one that didn't make mistakes all the time." I simply say with a weak smile. "You really should know by now that it's _you _I want."

* * *

For the most part, things go back to normal. Everyone's kept on trucking. But, Troy's investigation is still hanging over Hearst like a storm cloud. He did, after all, fall well into 09er territory. I'm sure his former zip code is the only motivation that keeps our sheriff's department focused on the case.

Even though Piz has the _older woman_, Trish, on his arm, I swear I've seen him get moony over the sight of Logan and I together. _Awkward_. Logan's been amazing, and I know it's nearly unbelievable, but we've actually been honest lately. We both know how it can be when we're not.

I leave my morning class, still entirely exhausted, long hair haphazardly pulled back into a ponytail.

"Hey there, Superfly!" Wallace is actually chipper, a favorable change over his previous brooding. We do a Shake and Bake fist hit and turn (clearly out of Talladega Nights).

"Hey, baller." I say simply, yawning.

"You up all night studying?" He asks cautiously, taking in my tired visage.

"…and investigating, and paying my boyfriend a visit at the Grand-"

"T.M.I, V." He shakes his head "I don't need to know what you two crazy kids get up to."

"Mind out of the gutter, Wallace. I just dropped by with some Italian food. We ate it. Watched a movie. Overall, a PG rated night."

Wallace looks at me incredulously "And you call yourself a college girl…"

"Despite what the graphic infomercials tell you, not all college girls go wild." He chuckles lightheartedly. "You're smiling again, always an improvement. Missed you, bud."

"You and me both."

* * *

Logan and I are having another brainstorm session over the case. Vinnie's not looking in the right places, obviously. It's become a near ritual that we'd share Chinese food, watch a little television, and then do some research. Mac's helped out a little too, although mostly due to the fact that she's up at the Grand anyway for Dick. When he gets on her nerves, which happens to be less often than you'd think, she lapses into computer girl mode.

"You find Polly yet?" Logan asks distractedly as I type.

"No. I dropped the case." I reply finally. "Why?"

"I just, uh, might have a lead. You know, if you're interested?"

"What is this lead you speak of?" I question.

"There's this guy at Rest Stop 15; he sells exotic animals."

I look at him blankly.

"Wait, you do know where Rest Stop 15 is, right?" Logan looks at me intently, surprised.

"I know where it is." I shake my head dismally. "I've been there too many times for my liking, actually."

"Surely not smoking up or anything else equally illegal?" Logan jokes.

"Of course not. Have you?" I poke back seriously.

"I'm going to choose not to answer that question." He blushes. I kid you not.

"Aw, come on…what happened to that honesty pact we agreed on?" I punch him jokingly in the arm.

"But, you already know the truth, Veronica. You know _all_ my wily ways." He insists.

"These wily ways at old Rest Stop 15…not lately, were they?"

"Last time I went was right after you left for the F.B.I. A reckless bout of teenage rebellion, I suppose?" He pauses "But, yeah, anyway, that guy's apparently got some sort of standing appointment. Dick was thinking of buying a sugar glider when we went."

"Hm. Kindred souls, I'm sure. They're both hopelessly nocturnal…Anyway, when's this standing appointment?"

"Tuesdays, I think. He's got an old VW. Orange."

"Conspicuous." I mutter.

A little wardrobe change and we're completely incognito. I'm sporting a baby tee and tight jeans and he's wearing a simple polo and khakis. Joe and Sally Teenager.

Simply arriving, I'm surprised Vinnie hasn't busted it up yet. During his brief stint in office, my dad had definitely tried at least a few times. There are mysterious clouds of smoke coming from cars, hot electronics in the back of vans, and dirty magazines piled high in trunks. Logan seems immune as we walk toward the orange "Good Times" van near the back. He puts his arm possessively around my lower back.

The man automatically acknowledges us. He shadily asks "What y'all lookin' for?"

"Oh, baby, I've always wanted a parrot!" I gush at Logan and he kisses my forehead.

He turns to the dealer "It's our 1 year anniversary. Gee whiz, she's gonna run me out of money on this one." He shrugs playfully.

"Well, I got some parrots. Fresh out of the rainforest. Interested?" He's obviously lying. I'm fairly sure the birds he's got haven't even touched the rainforest.

I nod simply with a nervous grin. He crawls into the back and a minute later pulls out a big cage with two parrots in it, one in signature Neptune H.S. colors. _Natch._

"Do you, like, do deliveries?" I ask in my bubbly voice again and he simply nods. Giving him the money, I also give him Van Clemmons' address. "Daddy should be home, I think. He'll take care of it."

* * *

Monitoring more recording, I finally hear something useful.

"_Yeah, dude. I think I'm goin' up to the cabin this weekend. Dad's out of the country and he always has a huge stock of Cubans and some J.D. Should be pretty awesome."_

"_You're gonna get so wasted, man."_ _Domonick?_

_"'Bout time. So much crap lately. That Mars slut came by the other day. If she weren't so bitchy-"_

_"Know what you mean. She got one of her thug friends to put my car up on blocks. Got him fired."_ Domonick sniggers and I ball my hand into a fist. _"Cholo had it coming."_ I'm furious now. Weevil was a hard worker. Insult me all you want, but you bring my friends into it...that's not okay.

Why didn't it occur to me before? I'm really starting to feel like an idiot. If Troy's possibly alive, there's a good chance he's up at the cabin.

Searching through Prying Eyez, I finally find an address. Nervous, I call Logan.

"Hey, you up for a road trip?"

* * *

I told Vinnie about my course of action and he warily instructed me to contact the local sheriff's department in Santa Cruz, get a little backup. So I did. They're out in the woods, laying in wait as Logan and I attempt to break in. Of course they don't agree with our solution, but how else are we going to find out? It's not as if Gory's going to even contemplate letting me in, plus he's not even up there yet.

We're completely wired up. I pick the lock with my bobby pin and Logan looks amazed. He definitely should be. It took weeks of practice to figure out that particular talent. _Oh, the things I learned as an outcast. _The door opens and thankfully there's no alarm system in sight. I'm slightly disappointed…isn't this supposed to be the summer home of a mobster?

With my signal, Logan and I split up, searching each individual room. No luck. But finally, I see a door that I can only assume leads to a basement. It's locked. Time to use my magic bobby pin skills again. Logan keeps watch as I pull yet another bobby pin out and stick it in the lock, contorting and bending it until we gain entry. The door creaks and we cautiously go down. It's musty and hot down here and it's got a horrible stench. Surveying the area, my eyes finally fall on Troy tied to a chair with rope. His eyes are puffy and purple. His mouth is covered generously in duct tape. He's alive, but he's struggling. It looks as if he hasn't eaten in days. Logan pulls out his pocketknife and cuts Troy loose.

"Troy." I say gently "Are you okay?"

He gasps and finally sputters, "Of course I'm not." He glares at Logan darkly and I help him up. Troy's stomach rumbles and it's obvious he's starving.

"We're gonna take you back to Neptune, okay?"

"Okay." He nods.

I help him up the stairs, making sure to lock every door behind us. We trek through the woods, having to stop a few times for Troy. We finally land at a police cruiser. Officer Manahan takes us all back to the station and we give statements.

According to Troy, Gory's dad got screwed in a deal at L.T.'s company and decided to use his mob connections to make Troy disappear. Well, until Daddy Vandergraff had paid the ransom money, that is. Which, by the way, he hasn't. The accusation on Logan was an embellishment added simply by Gory and Domonick. Gory wanted to make at least partially good on his threat, and besides that, everyone knows that Logan is an extremely convenient scapegoat. It's all just a hideous circle of lies. And now, everyone involved is gonna pay. _Oh, sweet satisfaction_

* * *

Hope y'all enjoyed it. More to come :)


	12. History is Falling for Science

I'm eating my strawberry yogurt and blueberry waffles in the cafeteria when Troy suddenly sits down next to me. He's still puffy, bruised, and a little prickly, but he's on the road to recovery. He offers me a weak smile and I return it.

With a chomp of my waffle, I ask softly "You feeling any better?"

"Eh." He smirks with a slight twitch of his lip "A little."

"Good."

"Yeah." Suddenly, we're in an awkward silence. "Look, I'm sorry about what happened at the Grand, I was-"

"Extremely drunk and terribly out of it. I get it. Just, uh, don't do it again, okay?" I ask jokingly. "I happen to have this really jealous, protective boyfriend who can and will bash your face in."

"I know." He replies with a slight smile "_Believe me_, I definitely know."

"Well, since you've been fairly warned…"

"Look. I really want us to be friends again, Veronica. I know it's hard for you to trust people once they've screwed you over, but…" He trails off "I mean, look at you and Logan …I mean, he like let out your tires and all that crazy stuff and you two, you're in love. That's like _amazing_. Just give me another chance to be a friend, okay? I promise I can be a really good guy."

"Deal." I say reluctantly and we high five.

* * *

"Hm. I love slumming it." Logan smirks maliciously at me and I shake my head. We're sitting in the hot tub at my apartment complex.

"What?" I punch him in the arm playfully. "You said you wanted to come here!"

"Only after you said you wanted to go up to the pool at the Grand. I can't have you using me for my money, Sugarpuss." He kisses my cheek.

I scoff. "You're an ass, you know that?"

"But, you love it." He grins wildly and I shake my head.

"My Dad's gonna come down here soon and try to get me to do the dishes or sort laundry. He's a sly one, that father of mine."

"Maybe we _should've_ used the hot tub at the Grand…" He muses.

"Security contacts, remember?" I tap my head.

"You really need to get your own place. That way, we can be uninterrupted…" He nuzzles into my neck. "I feel like we're in junior high."

"Wasn't it in junior high that Celeste caught you and Lilly _getting friendly_ in the guest bedroom?" I poke back.

"Veronica!" My dad calls from the balcony, curiously looking down at us. Logan's cheeks flame. For such a fearless rebel, he still gets awfully nervous around my father. "You and Logan coming back up soon?"

"Like clockwork." I mutter and Logan chuckles.

* * *

I hate this. I could be using my Tuesday afternoon for something a lot more productive than picking up a frat boy from the Sheriff's Department. Like, for example, that pesky English II paper over Nathaniel Hawthorne that I have to write.

Dick strides out seemingly unaffected and addresses me rudely "You're not Mac."

"What? No 'Gee, Ronnie, thanks for picking me up from jail'?" I sneer back as I cross my arms uncomfortably.

"_Thanks, Ronnie."_ He says not entirely genuinely. We start walking out to the parking lot.

"Actually, no, you shouldn't be thanking _me_. You really should be thanking Mac, your girlfriend, for calling me to get you, and Logan for paying to bail you out. And let's not forget Deputy D'Amato for choosing not to breathalyze you because he knew we knew each other. You're so lucky they _just_ got you for disturbing the peace, Dick." I shake my head, amazed and horrified, both at the same time. "By the way, what on Earth were you doing to get arrested at 3 AM anyway?"

Dick answers reluctantly "I was chillin' with my Pi Sig brothers. This guy Andrew (_Ahh, Mr. Points himself_) thought it'd be totally boss to streak across campus. We made it to the quad before the popo showed up."

"Hm. No wonder Mac's so pissed off." I muse.

"What? Logan gets wasted and you don't get TO'd. What's the difference?"

"Logan doesn't generally streak…or you know, disturb the peace." I pause "Plus, I suppose Mac has higher moral expectations than I do." I shrug.

Dick bites his lip and finally replies "Well, uh, Logan's got this tendency to sleep with my ex-girlfriends when he's drunk. What do you say to that? Huh, V Mars?" He's attempting to get a rise out of me. And, Dick was wrong. Ex-girlfriend_s_? Ex-girlfriend. Singular. Madison. _Yuck…_ God, simply the thought of Aspen or last year's Winter Break made me ill for months.

"I'm not going to acknowledge that remark." I say firmly with my jaw uncomfortably set and unlock the Saturn. "It's not really a competition, anyway. Plus, I remind you that _I'm_ the one driving you back to the Grand. If you'd like to continue to insult me and berate me, you'll be finding yourself on foot." I pause "You'd better work on your hitchhiker's thumb."

"Whatever." He huffs childishly and hops in. Finally, he smartly changes the subject to Mac "So Mac's pissed, huh?" His voice is almost regretful.

"Well, yeah, Dick. You ditched her to take part in Advanced Streaking 101. Are you honestly surprised?"

"Nah." He seems gentler now and his features have softened.

"Hey, Dick?"

"Yeah, Ronnie?"

"Don't mess it up with her, okay? She's been screwed over enough."

* * *

"Aw. That's adorable." Logan coos as I detail the day's events.

"Shut up." I protest.

"Hey, you asked for it." Logan quiets down and lowers his lips down over mine.

"I just, uh, thought it'd be nice to bring people together for once, you know? Mac's my friend and she's had it rough the past few years." He kisses my cheek gently and we refocus on the HD television in his suite. We're watching the Blue October concert on pay-per-view. As "Calling You" blares, we both silently remember the night on top of this very hotel. It's eerie and unsettling, just as I'd expected it to be.

There's a knock on the door. It's too impersonal to be Dick. Besides, he's off trying to woo Mac into forgiving him for his debauchery and subsequent arrest.

Logan gets up and answers it. After a murmur of uncomfortable conversation, he leads the guest in. "This came for you." He awkwardly gestures at Piz, who's looking utterly devastated.

"Piz, what's up?" I ask cautiously.

"Trish is missing."

* * *

Besides the case of the missing rebound girlfriend, I have now been approached with another. Apparently, Brian "Pop" Popovich is suspicious that _his_ girlfriend, Jolene Wernbach, is cheating on him. If all said about her is to be believed, she's a serial dater who has a proclivity for "blowing guy's _minds_"…_if you know what I mean._ I know I shouldn't close this case with that reasoning. It's after all, a product of the voracious rumor mill at Hearst. I mean, for example, if everyone truly believed that nasty rumor that I was a literal leper with V.D., I would have less friends than I already do.

Hm. I wonder if old Pop is still in touch with his former BFF Kurt.

As I mull this all over, I'm quietly sitting in the Beautify lobby, leafing through this month's InStyle as I wait for my appointment. Logan and I are having a fancy date tonight and I've decided to get dolled up. The last time I've been to an actual salon, and not the local ProCuts was a long, _long_ time ago. It was actually freshman year of high school.

"_I don't see why I have to do this, Lilly! It's a waste of money!" I'd whined as we sat in the lobby._

"_God, Veronica. You're going to do this."_

"_But…Duncan says he likes me just the way I am." I protested._

"_Veronica Mars! Have you learned nothing from me? Or even your mother for that matter?" I looked at her blankly. "You don't get makeovers for your boyfriend, you get them for yourself! You __**are**__ fabulous, honey. You just don't know it yet."_

Lilly had taught me so much, especially after her death. I'd become everything she'd ever wanted me to be. God, I miss her so much.

As the hairdresser chops inches off, I smile in remembrance.

* * *

We enter Benini's and Logan talks to the host.

"Reservation for Echolls." He notes simply and the host nods, picking up two menus, and leading us to one of their nicest tables. Duncan took me to this restaurant summer before Senior year.

"Excuse me. The powder room is calling." I say, politely kissing Logan's cheek as I head over to the Ladies' room.

Primping in the bathroom, I survey my new look. Flirty short hair. Well, mid-neck, anyway. I smile and leave the bathroom. As I walk back to our table, I survey my surroundings. I almost can't believe my eyes. Jolene Wernbach is sitting in the corner with Wallace. Who would've thought it?

I text Wallace quickly "Summit. NOW. I'm at Benini's too."

I watch as Wallace's phone rings out and he looks around until his eyes finally meet mine. I nod seriously. He makes his excuses to Jolene and walks over to me and we meet in the bathroom hallway.

"What're you doing here with Jolene?" I hiss.

"I like her, okay? We have Biology together."

"Well, it just so happens her supremely _jealous_, athletic boyfriend, Pop, hired me to find out if she was cheating." I pause as realization dawns over his features. "Which she apparently _is_…with you."

"Don't tell him, Veronica." Wallace asks simply. "Can you at least be happy for me?"

"I have to, Wallace. You know that." I pause, looking him the eye with a concerned tone. I'm honestly worried about him "You need to end this with her now. Or else, when Pop finds out, you're as good as pummeled."

Wallace shakes his head in exasperation and goes back to Jolene without a word. I go back to Logan, who's sitting there tapping his watch.

"Was there a line?" He asks softly.

"Mm. No. Wallace is here. We needed to have a little chat."

"Oh. Okay. Well, I ordered your drink. Hope that's okay." He looks at me expectantly.

"What is it?"

"Strawberry lemonade. You love that, right?"

"You just want me to pucker up. That's your hidden agenda." I tease.

"Psh. Like I have to try that hard."

* * *

Luckily for Wallace, I also end up finding Jolene getting cozy to our soccer team's goalie, Bennison Carnegie. This very tawdry snapshot is what I use to close the case. For a few minutes after this development, Brian Popovich seethes in anger. 

"I can't believe her! God!" He booms, leafing through the pictures.

"Well…" I shrug. "Sorry, Pop." I shake his shoulder gently.

He simply gives me a soft glance, almost like a wounded puppy. Who knew that under all that brawn and muscle, there was a tiny beating heart?

"So…I know this is a terrible time to mention this…" I sit down next to him on his bed, awkwardly "But, uh, did you hear about Trish?"

"Kurt's ex?" His eyes briefly brighten in curiosity "Heard she skipped town."

"That's odd…I was under the impression she went missing. Weird huh?" I almost cross my fingers, but thinking that too obvious, I leave my hand still. I'm trying to probe him for answers. Hope he doesn't catch on.

"Missing?" He scoffs and looks at me incredulously "You hear that from her lame-ass boyfriend? Pez, Piss, whatever his name is?" I inwardly flinch at the reference to Piz. He's an okay guy. I admit, I have a soft spot for the naïve Beaverton boy. Just because we're not going out anymore doesn't mean that I'm going to trash him. "Believe me, Ve-ron-ica, she's just using the dude. It's _convenient_."

"So, you're saying she ran off?" I scratch my head.

"I'm effing confirming it." Suddenly, Pop pauses "Why am I telling you this anyway?" His brow furrows and one can honestly wonder if he's forgotten himself. "Well, uh, I gotta talk to Jolene about our 'situation'. How much was it?"

"Five-hundred. Cash." I simply offer up a weak smile and wait as he leafs through his wallet. At least I have something to tell Piz, however disappointing it may be.

* * *

Aw, I feel bad for Piz :/. Don't you?? A longer chapter was verrrry needed.

Song Credits:

Against All Odds - The Postal Service

The Best Deceptions - Dashboard Confessional

Clarity - John Mayer

History is Falling for Science - This Day and Age


	13. You Could Never Know

It's nearing that time again. The mall has become unbearable and I'm stuck on the idea front for presents. It's December and there's no way to deny it, the holidays are all around us.

Apparently, Alicia's gone out of town to visit her mother in Chicago with Darryl, leaving Wallace home for his finals. This departure has somehow convinced Wallace that he's fated to hold some "righteous shindig". It's a cliché, I know: throwing a party while your family is out of town. However, as his BFF, I'm under obligation to at least indulge his ideas. For the past few hours, it's been endless. The guest list, the beverages, _everything_ has become fodder for conversation. Thankfully, my father comes home.

He slaps an envelope in front of me on the kitchen table.

"What? Publisher's Clearinghouse is offering little old me the chance to be a winner?" I pause "Sign me up!" I squeal and he simply frowns.

"It's an early present, Honey." He sits down and watches as I finger the seal in curiosity.

"I thought Logan's jailbreak was my early Christmas present…" I look at him suspiciously and he shrugs.

"I've decided to be generous."

I tear it open and simply look at the two tickets before my eyes. I'm in awe. From graduation to Christmas, two tickets to New York City is the way to win any girl's heart. It should be a motto. _I'm that good._

"Are we actually going to go _together_ this time? As in same flight? Sharing a pretzel bag and an issue of Sky Mall?"

"_I'm_ not going." He finally says, crossing his arms. "One is for you, the other… it's for the person _you_ choose. The accommodations are already made and everything. That final detail…well, Honey, it's up to you."

I simply blink. Is he really giving me license to bring any one person that I want? Surely, this must be some elaborate trick.

"You're kidding."

* * *

Is there really any good news in this situation? _Trish isn't missing but, oh yeah, she ran off to reunite with Kurt. Surprise? _Somehow, I doubt Piz's face is going to light up with pure joy. I'm sure a little sulking is going to follow…and maybe a little of him holing up in his room listening to softcore emo music. I really hope that's not what followed our breakup.

I'm reluctantly pacing outside his room, biting my lip. There's a faint pulse of music and my face falls. Is there anything yet more depressing he could put on reserve for his impending breakdown? Maybe some Morissey?

Finally, I knock and take a deep breath. The music cuts short and suddenly the door is open.

"Hey, Piz." I immediately walk in, almost as if the room's familiar to me. Maybe it's all the familiar furnishings that tricked my subconscious.

"Hey, uh, Veronica." He pauses and looks at my quizzically "You cool?"

"Just peachy." I say sarcastically. I nervously wring my fingers. "Okay, so I've got _good_ and bad news."

With that, he closes his door and leans against it as if he's trying to seem casual. But really…it's just coming off as awkward. "And, that would be?"

"Well, for starters…She's not missing. Trish is very much where she wants to be." Disappointment is evident on his features and my eyes cast down. "Bad news is she wants to be with Kurt. In Kansas. She transferred schools and everything." I pause as he begins to pace, clenching his fingers in depression. "I'm so sorry, Piz."

"Well, I guess I maybe should've been worried when I saw her come out of the admissions office with her transcripts." He smirks darkly and quietly shakes his head. There's nothing about his demeanor suggesting that he's even somewhat happy or relieved. Guess I can't blame him. Poor guy, he's somehow got this affinity for unattainable girls.

A wave of guilt sweeps over me and I finally say "I've got to go. I have plans." Which, I do.

He nods and opens the door for me to exit "With Logan?"

I give him a gentle nod as blush rises in my cheeks. He nods back in understanding. As soon as I'm out the door, it closes again and the music swells.

* * *

"What do you want for dinner?" Logan asks as we lie on his bed, atop the sheets. We're both fully clothed. Both exhausted from a day that's been far too long.

"I don't care." I murmur with a yawn.

"Room service it is." He immediately sits up and tugs me up with him.

"So tired." I say simply as I lean my head on his shoulder. He takes a menu out from his nightstand and skims it.

"You want dessert for dinner?" He smirks at me and I shake my head.

"You want to roll me out of here?" Ignoring his references, I joke. "Thought not. I need some actual nutrients."

I finally sit up and he replies "Hm. Lasagna?"

"Is it cheesy _and _meaty?" I ask.

He nods, giving me an odd look.

"You didn't even have to ask." I smile widely and plop back onto the bed.

"Of course I did." He smiles and lies down to face me. "If I hadn't, you'd get cranky. And no one likes a cranky Veronica."

"Ain't that the truth?" I whisper and our noses touch on the tips. It's a slight tickle and I smile as he comes in for a kiss. Finally, after a few moments, I pull away and say, "My stomach is tumbling. Can we order in now?"

He smiles lazily and picks up the phone.

* * *

What a dilemma! Two tickets for New York and I'm stuck. Who do I take? Mac? Wallace? Logan? Or you know, I could always make up with Parker and invite her. She never transferred. Probably didn't want to deal with the move back. Nix that idea.

It's a toughy. I know I should probably invite Logan…although I'm not sure my dad would appreciate our need for a romantic getaway.

A new email. I get the notification and immediately click. Duncan. Well, technically, it's Marcus Haney. As always, questions about my wellbeing and about Neptune in general. Apparently Lilly's gotten pretty big by now, looking more like her namesake everyday.

Pondering everything, I realize what I'm going to do.

* * *

Parking my Saturn on the street, I notice a flashy black Audi parked next to the building. Shaking my head I take the long walk up the stairs to Mars Investigations. The door is unlocked, which is unexpected because I hadn't seen my father's car anywhere in sight.

As I enter, I notice a redhead in a pink Theta Beta sweatshirt texting ferociously from the couch. "Can I help you?" I ask simply, crossing my arms as I go to sit down at my desk.

She gives a terse nod and tucks her Iphone into her Fendi bag.

"What can I do for you, Miss…?"

"Warbucks. Sidney Warbucks." Surely, she's kidding. Red hair? Warbucks? Ringing any bells? I wonder if she's an adopted orphan too…or if her flat-ironed locks are really curly. Okay, I need to stop…enough Annie references. "Okay, so I think my boyfriend's cheating on me."

"Is this based on sheer instinct or actual evidence?" I lean back in my chair. It's no surprise a guy would cheat on her, not that it's right no matter the circumstance. It's just, _dang_, the girl's an ice queen.

"So, we were in his backseat…" Not something I want to imagine, thank you Sidney. "I found a Theta Beta pledge pin on the floorboard…and it wasn't mine. He doesn't know I found it, though. Just pocketed it and brought it here." She pulls a tiny plastic bag out of her purse with a small pin in it, as if she's quarantined it like it's some contagious and horrible disease. "He's an attractive guy and I'm sure a lot of girls would like to be with him. I just want you to tell me which _sister_ it is. I want to crucify the bitch."

Amazed at her tenacity, I stiffly nod and finally speak "It'll be $500."

* * *

After getting some sufficient detail, I start my investigation on Eric Jenner. Being a Pi Sig, it's not too farfetched that he'd be neck up in floozies. I've seen him out with Sidney several times, though she's seemed remarkably uncomfortable. Finally, I follow him out to Club Thin in Los Angeles, a hot club that Jackie seemed to love. He meets up with a bubbly blonde with _very_ provocative body language. The more I focus on the girl, the more familiar she looks. Hallie Piatt. Go figure. Whereas Sidney's intense and classy, this girl is anything but. They're still in line waiting to be let in by the bouncer and I focus my camera in on the two. They lean in for a kiss and suddenly my view is obstructed. Immediately checking my camera, I hear a voice outside my car window. Dick. Drunk, no less. He clumsily motions for me to roll down my window. I simply shake my head and motion for him to go to the passenger's side. He trips and nearly lands on the pavement. I quickly snap my shot of Eric and the Hallie and let Dick in. He's wasted. He reeks of cheap booze and way too much cologne.

"Ronniieeee…what're you doing here?" He scratches his head. "You want to get jiggy wit' it?" He waggles his eyebrows suggestively.

"I could ask you the same question." I put my camera away in its case and cross my arms. He pulls a flask out of his jacket and unscrews it. I snatch it away from him and he groans. "Dick, you're already wasted. Stop."

"I know what I'm doing." He protests with a slight whine.

"Really? You know what you're doing? What exactly is that, Dick?" I sneer and I strap him in his seatbelt. I pull out and start on our drive back to Neptune. "'Cause if you think drinking yourself into oblivion is a valid life choice, I've got some serious news for you."

"Mac and I had a fight." Gee golly, no surprise there. The two of them probably have more fights than Logan and I do, it's a definite miracle they've stayed together all this time. "And the Pi Sigs were goin' out tonight. I needed a night off."

"A night off from the only good thing you've got going? God, Dick, I thought I told you to be careful with her…" I trail off and shake my head. Not hearing a reply, I look over to see Dick snoring heavily. After awhile, we're back in Neptune and I'm braked. I shake his shoulder "Dick, get up. I'm dropping you off."

"Logan's gonna be pissed." Dick groans and rubs his eyes.

"You're not at the Grand, Dick. I'm dropping you off at Mac's."

* * *

The next afternoon, Logan and I are watching a movie on television. Suddenly the commercial break comes on and a flashy reality show commercial comes on. Surprise! Trina is one of the house members. Girl's gotta have some sort of income.

Logan rolls his eyes and I kiss his cheek.

"So is it big?"

"What?" He furrows his brow in confusion.

"My Christmas present."

"Veronica…" He groans, "It's a surprise."

I'm really anticipating my gift from him this year. It's our first Christmas to be actually romantically involved. He got me a friendly gift last year and left it on my doorstep. He actually bought me one of those old fashioned Polaroid cameras that I'd been lusting after. Ever since we'd gotten together earlier this school year, I've been taking snapshots of us together and sticking them to a bulletin board in my room. This year, however, it's got to be even bigger. Not that I'm materialistic or anything.

"Are you sure it's not a pony?"

"What's with you and ponies and unicorns? You're like this secret equestrian."

"Just a hint?" I pout my lips and bring them close to his face. Instead of answering the question, he kisses my lips instead.

"No." He finally says with confidence, crossing his arms.

"Well, okay." I say, giving him a false sense of comfort. Suddenly, I get up and race to his bedroom. "Hmmmm. I wonder if it's in your sock drawer. Your porn stash down there too?" I'm suddenly digging through his dresser. No porn. _Thank God_.

"Ronnie! Get out of there!" He yells as I frantically peer through it. He's finally here and he pulls my hands away. But I'm still facing the drawer and I still know what I see. It's a small blue box, a ring box to be exact.

Not taking my eyes off it for a second, I quietly say "Logan…that's not a pony."

"I know." He says solemnly and spins me around to face him. "It's not your Christmas present either."

"What is _it_, really?" I ask as we clumsily tumble onto the bed.

"It's hard to explain, Veronica." He rubs his forehead and I lean into him with a smile. "I know you're not ready to get into something like that yet. Hell, I'm not even really ready yet." He's got on an awkward facial expression. "It's just on standby for when and _if_ we are."

"No. Not yet." I say gently. "But I will be someday." And I'd like to hope I'm going to be. I love Logan. I really do, I'm just not really quite ready for the commitment and finality of it all. I'd like to at least graduate college before I even mull over marriage.

"And for now, that's good enough for me." He kisses my hand softly and I grin. After a few moments of silence, I sit up and look him in the eye.

"So…how's this for next big step? You and Me. New York. Christmas break?" He looks at me curiously with a slight twinkle in his eye "_No rules_."

* * *

As I get out of my car and walk back to the apartment complex, I've got a bright smile on my face. It's set and I couldn't be happier.

I enter the apartment to find my father watching television intently. Probably old reruns of "Sanford & Son" or something equally archaic.

"I'm taking Logan to New York, Dad."

"Are you sure-?" His protective side is coming out.

"You said it was my choice. And don't worry. Separate beds." I'm probably lying, even if I don't want to be. I mean, it does get awfully cold in New York. Suddenly I notice his choice of wardrobe and my eyes squinch up. "You didn't go on undercover today, did you?" He's wearing his old Sheriff's uniform.

He gives me a raspberry and I offer up a smile in response. "It's almost impossible to do that anymore, honey. You get your face plastered over books and magazines and newspapers, and your days of anonymity are gone."

"But really, what's with the police garb?"

Suddenly he takes a deep breath and looks me gently in the eye. "Vinnie died this afternoon. Apparently some deal with the Fitzpatricks soured and Liam came back with a gun. He shot him, sweetheart."

"Oh, God." Vinnie's dead. He may not have been someone I was close to, but it's a shame.

"The Commissioner called me this afternoon. I just had a press conference. As runner up, I'm temporary sheriff at least until the emergency elections." He rubs his eyes in frustration.

How's that for a bittersweet ending to an otherwise monumentally amazing day?

* * *

**AN: **I thought about an engagement, but decided against it. Still thought I'd stick some fluff in there for all you LoVers.

Comments:)


	14. Clouds and Skyscrapers

The seatbelt lights turn off with a ding and Logan pulls me closer to him, trying to comfort my fretting nerves. I've never been a big fan of flights. There's just something about being up 30,000 feet in the sky that seems plumb unnatural. There are some butterflies in my stomach that I just can't stifle. I don't know if it's from my fright of airplanes or the fact that Logan's got me tight in his arms. I'd like to hope it's the latter.

There's a movie on the screen and Logan's watching it. Noticing my tired eyes, he gently tells me to get some sleep, it'd be easier that way. I can't sleep when I'm that nervous. Instead of sleeping, I lean into him, taking in the synchronicity of our beating hearts as he rubs lazy circles on my side.

* * *

The neon sign outside of Brooklyn Dan's is burning out. I can see it as it flickers and Logan and I are waiting hand in hand across the street in apprehension. I went to visit Jackie last summer and we'd gabbed for thirty minutes straight before her mom hassled her to get back to work.

"Let's do this." I murmur and lead him across the street. We stride in and take two barstools at the counter. Jackie is checking out her last customer at the cash register with a cheesy smile. All the while, she's flipping him off from behind and under the counter.

The place is clear, which might be a good thing.

"Oh my God!" She squeals and leads us over to a booth. We all sit down.

I look around and shrug. "You're not gonna get into trouble this time?"

"I'm closing. I can stay here as long as I want." She says and seems effortlessly cool. I've always envied that about her.

We chat for a while and then we get to the tough stuff.

"How's Wallace?"

How should I answer that exactly, Jackie? Tell you he's broken, that he hasn't had a serious relationship since you left him for _Paris_? No, I'll let Wallace keep his dignity.

"He's good." Keeping it simple and noncommittal is the best option.

"Oh." She remarks guiltily. Suddenly she looks me in the eye. "That bad?" I give a curt nod and she segues to another topic. "I've been saving up. Gonna visit Neptune soon. I haven't even talked to my dad since before Graduation." She shakes her head in a quiet frustration and my heart pains slightly for her.

I glance over at Logan and he's biting his lip as if he's trying to say something, but can't get up the courage. I give him a curious look and he simply shakes his head.

There's a knock on the door and Jackie nods the shivering man in. He's dressed in a navy wool coat and jeans with a white fleece scarf. He sits down at our booth and we all look at him quizzically. "Hey, guys."

With a simple sentence, everything makes sense. "Damn. In the flesh." Jackie says in a low whisper. A different flesh, it seems. Duncan is no longer himself. He's tan and lean with slightly bleached hair and black-framed glasses. He's lost weight, I'm not sure if its from his year on the run or from his diet. He still has that childlike glimmer in his eyes. I offer up a genuine smile.

"DK." Logan and Duncan high five. Jackie simply shakes her head in surprise.

"Where's Lilly?" I ask, furrowing my brow.

"It was tough enough getting _me_ here." He scoffs and then notes, "She's back home staying with my girlfriend Clara."

"Dude, what's the deal with the glasses? You look all artsy." Logan frowns.

"They helped my disguise, I usually wear contacts now, and you'd never expect this, but I am sort of _artsy_." We all look at him in shock. "I write, finger paint with Lilly, and whittle on occasion." He gives us all a crooked grin.

* * *

"You sure we can handle this?" I whisper to Logan while Duncan's in the bathroom.

"What? Sharing a hotel room with him?" Logan asks briskly.

"…with two beds. I assumed it'd be us in one and him in another. Doesn't that strike you as slightly awkward?" I frown.

"You scared he's maybe still holding a candle for you?" He teases me and gently strokes my cheek.

I roll my eyes. "Fine, whatever. Be a jackass." I cross my arms and give him a dirty look. It's not as if I expect Duncan to go all moony for me, but we were definitely still all hot and heavy when he left, and I'm not quite sure where it ended exactly. I'm in love with Logan fully and completely faithful, but it's still an odd situation. At least Duncan's got some Australian girl waiting on him.

Duncan comes out and says "Y'all ready?"

"You know it." I say cheerfully.

* * *

There's a hollow knock on the suite door and I open my eyes in an instant. Who is it? Did the FBI find out about Duncan? A million scenarios are running through my head and I'm sweating terribly. I sit straight up in bed and Logan groans.

"Someone's at the door." I say in a husky whisper.

He's immediately alert. "I'll get it." He stretches and leaves to get the door.

"Duncan…" I whisper harshly and shake his shoulder. "Wake up."

Meanwhile, I hear a deep throaty voice. Clarence Wiedman. "Mr. Echolls…" False alarm. I enter the front room in my pajamas and yawn. "Ah, of course, Ms. Mars. I should have known."

"Wiedman." At this recognition, Logan ushers him in and closes the door, locking it securely.

"I know Duncan's here. He and I have some business to go over." His voice is serious and monotone, like usual.

Soon, Logan and I are waiting in the front room while Duncan and Wiedman are discussing something very serious in the bedroom. We're watching television.

"Rocky and Bullwinkle." I say with a slight squeal and lean into him.

"Whatsamatta U?" He jokes with a bright smile and I kiss his cheek lightly. Suddenly, Wiedman exits the bedroom.

"I'll go over the details with you later, Mr. Kane."

Duncan gives him a slight nod from the doorway, and his expression is somber.

"Dude, what the hell?" Logan asks bluntly as Clarence leaves. Duncan collapses on the couch nearest to us and rubs his forehead in frustration.

"I'm coming home." He says quietly, his expression never brightening.

"Shouldn't that be something you're actually excited about?" I ask anxiously.

"Not under the circumstances. No." He glares at me.

"Duncan, what happened?" I ask and Logan simply watches as we interact.

"The Mannings put Grace in the hospital. Lizzie turned them in for child abuse."

"How bad-?" My voice is quivering. I've always wished we could've helped Grace more. But, without a conviction from Lamb, we'd gotten nowhere.

"She's in a coma." He says with finality and shakes his head. "Somehow, your dad got all my charges dropped."

"But the FBI took it up. How-?" I shake my head in confusion, wracking my brain. "Why do I even ask myself these things? He's a miracle worker."

* * *

After a near week of museum tours, shopping (me haggling down in Chinatown for handbag…not a pretty sight), and multiple visits to local hot spots, we've decided we've had our fill of New York, at least for the time being. Duncan's taking a flight back to Australia to get everything squared away and he intends on being back by mid-January with Lilly, the younger, and Clara in tow. As for Logan and I, we're lazily waiting at our gate for departure. I listen to the CNN anchor drone on about politics as Logan does a word search.

"Hey, gang." Someone sits down across from us. Jackie.

"You're on this flight?" My throat closes up nervously.

"I told you I was saving up." She smiles.

"You, uh, haven't told Wallace about this development, have you?" I ask apprehensively and she shakes her head defiantly in response. "Rock, meet hard place." I snap my finger in frustration.

"I'm not trying to put you in an awkward position, Veronica." She says simply and honestly.

"I know." I reply with a weak smile.

Logan's still circling his words on the word search, pretending he's missed our somewhat heart to heart.

* * *

While Logan and I relaxed in first class (thank you, Dad), Jackie attempted to overcome the time change in coach.

Once we all arrive back in California, we wait at baggage claim.

"I think I'll go to the party tonight." Jackie muses. She'd been around when I'd taken audience to Wallace's party plans this past week and she'd even had to stifle her giggles at my glaring annoyance.

"Jackie…" I trail off in warning.

Logan simply shakes his head and runs his hand through his hair. He's been quiet for a while now.

Jackie gives me a firm look.

"Fine." I reply.

We all drive back extremely awkwardly to Neptune and finally let Jackie off at her father's. She's going to meet us at the apartment a little later.

As soon as we're on the main road I turn down the radio. "What's been up with you?"

"Oh you know, came back from this awesome trip-" He adopts a surfer voice and I interrupt him.

"No. Every time Jackie's around you get this weird faraway look, like you're guilty or something…" I cross my arms uncomfortably. "Was there more to you two than a drunken dance at Homecoming?" I'd like to hope there wasn't, but one can never be too sure.

"God, Veronica. How can you even ask me that?" He starts to speed, I assume to take out his frustration. "After all we've been through, you still don't trust me…"

"Stop it, Logan!" I yell. "Of course I do. It's just a simple question. Pull over." His jaw sets and he reluctantly skids as he pulls over. "Now, seriously. Tell me."

"Jackie and I never ever had anything going. _She_ danced with me that night. And let me also mention, that she was pretty wrecked on something…"

"Okay." I pause "That still doesn't answer my question as to why you've been so broody."

He takes a deep intake of breath and finally replies. "Terrence is a doorman at a casino now…and it's not even a good one. I doubt Jackie even knows, considering her sunny disposition." He runs his hand through his hair again and I sink in my seat.

"Lobo." I say finally and he nods. "Did you-?"

"Fake I.D. Again…part of my last bout of teenage rebellion. A little gambling. Nothing major. I didn't dip into my trust fund or anything." He pulls away from the curb as our conversation becomes mellower.

"Thank God for that." I grumble.

We finally end up at the apartments and he lets me out. I kiss him quickly on the cheek and we discuss our plans for later. As I enter the apartment, I see my dad at our table, stirring some oatmeal, despite the fact that it's well past lunchtime.

"Hey, father of mine." I pull out a chair and sit down.

"How was your trip?" He asks politely and takes a spoonful of oatmeal.

"Good. A lot of quality time." I pause and suddenly smile "Speaking of, that's one thing we're severely lacking."

"Is this some attempt to get me to fork over your present?" He cocks an eyebrow and grins.

"Meh." I shrug. "It's worth a try, right?" I joke. He reaches into his briefcase and pulls out a large manilla envelope. Not to be overdone, it's simply got my name written in curly script on the front. He hands it over and I flip it over, upside down, and on and on. Suddenly with a curious expression, I open it up. Paperwork? If that's his idea of season's greetings, I'm going to be so disappointed. As I peer through it, I notice it's my name on the Mars Investigations letterhead instead of his. Mine? Really?

I look at him with a dropped jaw. "Dad-"

"I'm apparently a shoe-in in the emergency recall, unopposed again. Plus, you've got your license now…"

"Thank you so much." I squeal then retract with a serious concern. "I can't do it full time…"

"Hire a receptionist."

"Will do." I smile. I've already got one in mind. My fingers hit a small card in the envelope. It's a gift certificate to the spa. A token girly present. God love him.

* * *

Troy answers the door with the party full swing. To my relief, it's just a Dr. Pepper in his hand. He's much less iffy, and much more easy going now. I'm not sure if that's a good thing or not.

"Hello, ladies…" He uncomfortably notes Logan's presence. "…and gents. Welcome to Casa de Fennell." Logan puts his arm possessively around my waist. Troy looks Jackie up and down, letting his curiosity get the best of him. "And who might you be?"

"This is my friend Jackie." I reply as she crosses her arms awkwardly.

"Hello, friend." He wiggles his eyebrow and she frowns.

"Where's Wallace?" I finally ask as Logan rolls his eyes at Troy's antics.

"He's, uh, in the back with that chick Jolene." He points to the back with his thumb. At this, Jackie traipses off and my gut knots in worry. Logan gingerly takes my hand and squeezes it.

"Baby, let's dance." He whispers in my ear and I can't help but smile.

He leads me out onto the dance floor. After a few minutes of "pop, lock, and dropping it" and old-fashioned bumping and grinding, we're through. We collapse on Wallace's couch, next to a couple who should probably get a room, maybe one in Timbuktu? _Just, please, please, get away from us_.

Logan gets up to get a drink, a non-alcoholic one, he swears. I should hope so. He's driving, after all. Max plops down into Logan's empty seat, nursing a beer.

"So, they're together now?" He asks glumly, nodding his head to the direction of an apparently now fighting Dick and Mac. But, really, when are they ever not fighting? I mean honestly, they fight more than Logan and I do, and everyone knows that we fight quite often.

"Yes." I say simply. "Take one part jackass, one part computer genius, and you've got a chaos-laden couple." I joke simply, trying to cheer him up.

He nods and sips again. Either he's feeling really guilty about dumping her, or she completely shattered him when she dumped him. I'm not really quite sure who did the actual dumping in this situation. I can see his visible wince as Dick and Mac finally fall into a quick embrace. Maybe, they're "epic" too. Maybe. Maybe not.

* * *

There's more to come. Obviously. Hope y'all liked it. Reviews are forever appreciated :)


	15. Come See About Me

Logan told me to come over at 3:00 so we could do presents. His is waiting in a wrapped Adidas shoebox in my car. But, it's not actually a pair of Adidas, he'd feel pretty shafted. It's actually a GPS tracker/navigator for his car. Outside of Neptune and Balboa County…he's pretty clueless at directions. 

I'm early, but somehow, just in time. I've toyed with the idea before. Never attempted it. Last time around, I never quite got around to the inventive lingerie stage before Madison burst my bubble. It's makes me self-conscious. But, I know I shouldn't be, we're supposed to accept each other's flaws…warts and all, right? 

I slip my keycard into the slot and the door opens carefully. I slip in and call out "Logan?"

"Wow, Veronica, look at you…all grown up." Trina's voice stings my ears and I'm embarrassed. I feel naked. I pull my trench coat over myself, though a slight peek at the black lace nightie is still peeking out. She gets up from the couch and gives me a saccharine smile. "Are you and my little brother-?"

I offer up a weak smile. "Is he here?" 

He comes out of his bedroom and I blush. "He's here." Trina replies with a smile. Logan takes me gingerly by the arm to his room and closes the door. 

"Sorry you got accosted by Trina. Especially dressed like that." He looks me over and takes a deep breath.

"Yep." I say in a quiet voice. "I was just going to surprise you, but…"

"You're the one that got surprised?"

"Exactly." I smile as I dig through the drawers in his room for more sister-suitable clothes. 

"She needs a place to stay, at least for the weekend. She's doing some research…"

"For what?" I finally settle on a long sleeved teal shirt and some dark wash boyfriend jeans. 

"The Aaron Echolls' Story." He groans. I look at him blankly, jaw dropped. "I know…I shouldn't be sponsoring her unhealthy and certainly untrue obsession…"

"Especially one that has Evan Rachel Wood playing me." I scoff.

"She's family. The only person I've got. Charlie's still not called me back." He says in a defeated voice and collapses on the bed. Still clutching normal clothes in my hands I lay down next to him. He's being awfully accepting. 

"I understand, Logan." I kiss his cheek. I do understand. I only have my father, and when I had a chance at reconnecting with my mom…well, I didn't show much grace or mercy, for that matter.

Segueing, he whispers in my ear "I like your outfit. Sexy." I giggle quietly and get up. I change. 

We leave and as Trina entreaties us to look over the script, we ignore her with a slight chuckle and enter the hallway. 

The first thing Logan does when we enter the car garage is put a blindfold over my eyes. 

"How secretive of you." I giggle as he leads me to his car. We've been driving for a while when he finally stops and unlocks my door. He takes me by the hand again and leads me into an elevator, I can tell by its characteristic ding. "Logan…" I whisper confusedly.

"Just wait, Princess." He whispers teasingly in my ear. I hear him unlock a door and we're inside. He closes the door again and my palms are sweaty. What's going on? 

He pulls the blindfold off and we're in an empty room, an apartment. It's a nice one, too.

"Logan, I can't…"

"Accept it? Yes, you can."

"I can't have you pay the rent on this. It's too…_nice_…for you to-" I reply, my voice quivering. 

"What? Because I'm running out of my trust fund?"

I nod simply, looking at my feet.

"Veronica…I've been meaning to tell you this…I'm writing a tell-all."

I look up, surprised. Doesn't Logan hate those people, the ones that capitalize on disaster and disorder? "Really? That's so…unlike you." 

"Since I'm more or less sponsoring Trina's attempt at truth, I figured I negate it with the actual truth. Everyone needs to know what a-" 

"Crock he was?" I offer lamely, still looking around the apartment.

"Exactly." He says and we sit down on the carpet. "Look, I'll pay the rent for awhile, go halfsies with you, …whatever you're most comfortable with. Okay?" 

"Thank you." I whisper. I still feel guilty. But it makes sense, having my own place. I am an adult after all. Hope Dad doesn't take it too hard, I know he loves waking up to my lopsided pancakes in the morning.

* * *

You call it re-gifting, I call it a peace offering. So what if I had to go back to the spa and switch the card out for one that doesn't say "Merry Christmas, Veronica"?

I knock on Parker's door, crossing my fingers. As she answers, I genuinely say "Merry Belated Christmas!" I hand her the card, complete with a festive bow.

"Veronica, that's so…_sweet_." She says uncomfortably as she opens it. 

Noticing her awkward response, I say bluntly "Can we talk?"

"Sure." She says stiffly and leads me in. Colin Farrell is watching me from his poster and it's slightly eerie.

I sit down in her desk chair and she sits down on her bed.

"You don't have to pretend you're okay." I say simply and lean back.

"I…don't?" She looks at curiously as if she's trying to figure out what I'm all about. It's gonna take a lot longer than five seconds for that, honey.

"Look, believe me, I've been through this before. My friend slash ex-girlfriend of my current boyfriend…" _Oh, so lengthy_. "…gets all jealous and uncomfortable. I've actually been on both sides." I pause "Uh…you're not pregnant with his lovechild are you? 'Cause that would be like total déjà vu." I laugh nervously.

Parker looks shocked. "No. I'm on the pill." She says as if it's the most obvious thing on the planet. "And Logan and I…we never…you know." She says embarrassedly and crosses her arms. Which, okay, is understandable. I had a little trouble "getting back on the horse" after my own similar experience, to say the least. 

"Okay. Just, I guess my point is that we _were_ friends…at least I thought we were. I want that again." I pause "Of course, only if you do too."

* * *

I'm back at Henderson Grocery's break room, waiting with a wrapped box. Weevil strides in, takes a double take, and finally sits down.

"Wally busy again?" He jokes as he unwraps a roast beef sandwich.

"It's Wallace…and no."

"What's that? My friend of the year statue?" He snickers and I ignore it with a smile.

"See for yourself." I push it towards him and he curiously unwraps it. He pulls out a nameplate and a basic digital camera.

"What's this? 'Eli Navarro'? It's all official-like, like the one Van Clemmons had." He should know, he was certainly in Mr. C's office enough. He peers at the camera in confusion.

"My Dad passed the business to me. Word on the street is that you're a pretty good P.I. when you're not beating people up." 

"Is this a job offer or am I hallucinating?"

"That's up to you." I lean back in the chair, suddenly very conscious of gravity. "Want to give it another try, _Eli_? Sans the violence this time?"

Taking a hearty bite of his sandwich, he swallows and finally exclaims "Hell yeah."

* * *

"There's a point when a father must acknowledge that his progeny must leave the nest…but now?" My father looks at me worriedly "Veronica, you don't even know which way the toilet paper goes on…"

I scoff "That's a matter of opinion. Not a matter of maturity."

"Are you sure now's the right time, honey? You're still in college…"

"Hey, if this is a matter of our daily daddy-daughter convos. I will have a cell phone…and a key to the apartment. It'll be like I never left, I swear." I promise, tears threatening to cascade.

"You say that…but I'm not so sure." He crosses his arms. I shake my head and start to cry, I hug him and we both hang on. 

"You'll always be my favorite person." I whisper in his ear with one more squeeze. "You know that, right?"

"Only by instinct." He grumbles jokingly.

We pull apart and I punch him in the arm lightly. "Take that back." I instruct gently.

He shrugs with a careless smile and then his face turns serious "You're my favorite person, too."

* * *

I dial Jackie's number and wait. It rings and rings until it's finally picked up.

"Cook residence." Terrence says in a casual monotone. 

"Mr. Cook? Is Jackie home?"

"Uh, yeah, she is…who is this?"

"Veronica Mars." 

"Veronica! How's your dad doing? Back in office and all?"

"Good. He passed on the business to me."

"That's nice to hear." There's a certain warmness and familiarity in his voice and I can't help but smile. Even though he's lost his credibility and clout, he's still a pretty nice person. "I'll, uh, get Jackie. You have a good day."

"You too." I chirp and wait.

"Hey, Veronica." Jackie's voice is quivery, as if she's been crying.

"What's wrong?" I suddenly get into a concerned, protective mood.

"It's Wallace. He went off on me." She sobs and I inwardly curse. "He was all over that girl Jolene at his party. And then the next day we had a fight and he…he said I couldn't just demand a place in his life after I left like that. Can you believe him?"

He's my best friend, but sometimes…ooh, the boy can be stubborn. Maybe that's why we get along so well. You know, birds of a feather flock together? "Yes. I can."

She whines and suddenly gains back her cool. "So, uh, why'd you call?"

"Well, Mac, my friend Parker, and I are having this girls' night thing at my new apartment. You're invited. It's no guys allowed."

"Not even Logan?" She teases.

"Not even Logan." I reply with confidence. Oh, definitely not Logan. If I want Parker to at least give our friendship a chance again, Logan can't be around when we hang out. Hello, possible awkwardness. He's slightly okay with this, especially since I promised to pay him a little visit after said girls' night.

* * *

The apartment is still practically empty. Only the living room and kitchen are set up. My dad gifted me a nice leathery couch that apparently one of the guys at the department didn't need anymore. I personally think that's a bald-faced lie, but what can you do?

Parker and Mac lounge on the couch as I cozy up in a fleece blanket on the love seat.

"Look what I brought." Mac giggles and pulls out a flask from her purse.

"Mac!" I exclaim. "You lil' rebel, you!"

Parker is still looking on in shock as Mac's cheeks go crimson. "Dick gave it to me." She shrugs and takes a hearty swig. She's acting so unlike the conservative Mac that we all know and love. 

"God, I can't believe you're still with him!" Parker wrinkles her nose in faux-disgust. "You two are like nothing alike." 

"Opposites attract." Mac smiles "Laws of chemistry." She shrugs.

"_Right_."

"Okay, girls…so I brought some old nineties chick flicks. Y'all game?" Parker grins and pulls some DVDs out of her Coach tote bag. 

I clasp my hands to my heart and pretend to swoon. "I'm always game for Freddie Prinze Jr." 

"Aw, come on. Wouldn't you rather watch a little Bring It On, instead?"

_"Your pep is mediocre, Veronica Mars! Whereas I need a pep outlet, you need a pepper-upper. C'mon, babe. This movie like defines it. It's classic."_

_"Bring It On is classic, Lil'?" I mocked her. I was in a pretty terrible funk. Your mom coming home drunk and slurring can definitely put a serious damper on your mood. _

_"It'll totally impress Donut, V." Lilly simply said, looking me over. "You know he's got that thing for cheerleaders. Peppy ones." It was true. At that very moment, he and Logan and Dick had snuck out to watch the cheerleaders up at the Neptune High School football game. _

_"Fine." I grumbled and we practiced our spirit fingers._

"Spirit fingers!" I exclaim and ham it up to the groans of Mac and Parker. There's a timid knock on the door and I go to answer it. Jackie gives a lame smile and enters.

"What's happenin', girls?" She smiles and pulls a bottle of vodka out of her huge hobo bag. "I brought provisions."

Mac lifts up her flask with a playful grin.

* * *

"This is getting to be a pattern." Logan smirks as he spins something up in the blender.

"How so?" I grumble, putting my hands carefully over my ears. My head is pounding.

"Nights of debauchery with the girls and I'm here with the hangover cure."

"You know you like taking care of me." I tease as I lean back into the couch.

"It's my weakness." He replies with a nonchalant shrug as he comes over with a concoction in a coffee mug.

"What's that?" I wrinkle my nose and frown.

"Don't worry. Just drink it." He kisses my forehead and puts it gently in my hands.

I raise my eyebrows in confusion and take a sip. I immediately gag. "This is disgusting."

"Pounding headache or funky aftertaste?" He lifts his hands up and down like scales.

"How about neither?" I scoff and try to take another sip. 

"Tell you what, I'll get you some chasers next time. That should help, otherwise, it's all in using moderation, Ronnie."

"Duh." I say plainly and relax as his arm goes around me.

* * *

Spinning around in my desk chair during an off period, I realize that I'm bored beyond reason. Weevil's been a wiz at all this, getting money shots quick and simple, all while keeping his cool. For that, I'm super proud. I might spring for a nicer camera for him, or a pay raise or something. I flip through the case files on my desk, trying to give my self something to do. Stacking them in separate piles like my dad did, I'm again without activity. My phone buzzes and I pick it up.

"There's a Suzanne Astor here, V. Wants to talk to you." 

My mouth goes dry and I almost stutter. "Okay, send her in."

She walks in and takes a seat comfortably in the on the other side of my desk. "Hey, baby." She smiles and whispers like she did when I was five. It's so belittling.

"What're you doing here?" I whisper quietly, trying for a firmer voice, but failing miserably.

Her hair is freshly colored and she's sporting DKNY glasses. She's practically a different person. "I've come back. I went to rehab." She gives me a weak smile as if she's striving for my approval.

"Did you stay…?" I scoff and lean back in my chair.

"Yes." For once, I can actually hear real sincerity lacing her voice. "I did."

I feel like crumpling on the floor. Instead, with my voice almost shaking, I ask a simple question "Do you have somewhere to stay?"

* * *

**AN:** I hope that everyone wasn't too out of character (, I kinda felt like they were. Anywho, how's that! reviews please:)


	16. Lost and Found

Tired and emotionally exasperated, I sleep on the couch at my dad's after I got mom settled into her new digs.

I awake to the sizzling on the skillet. _I smell bacon_. I sit up, rubbing my eyes.

"Morning, honey." My dad gives me a careless smile. "How was your night?"

"Fine." I reply lightly. _If he only knew_…

"So, I think the million dollar question is…why aren't you at your own apartment?" He teases gently. Honestly, it's a good question, but I'm not really up to answering it. I'm sure it's mostly a comfort thing. Sure, my apartment is now fully moved into and furnished exactly the way I wanted, but it's as much a home as a nice hotel room.

"I guess it's a habit now." I offer lamely as I stretch and then go to sit down at the table.

"You do this much more…and Logan might think his gift was a waste."

I whisper, "He doesn't have to know" with a slightly nervous giggle. I immediately feel guilty. Isn't trust supposed to be the basis of our relationship now?

My dad simply shakes his head in amusement and slight disapproval. "What are you doing tonight?" He suddenly asks out of nowhere.

"Old-fashioned stakeout." I grin, satisfied, as I chomp into a piece of bacon.

"Before, how about you and your _charming_ boyfriend come over and eat some homemade Italian?"

"Do you get off early today?" I ask.

"I should, and if not, Leo can handle all the filing. He usually stays pretty late."

Apparently, Leo's a pretty commanding figure now at the department. He's my dad's right hand man, the one he trusts the most. I somehow have a strong suspicion that the couch now resting in my apartment was once Leo's.

* * *

In between my classes, I stop by the Camelot. My mom's hiding out in one of their rooms. Coincidently, it's the same one that Logan and I had our first kiss outside of. I didn't pick it for its sentimental value, though.

She lets me in, surprisingly for once, not smelling like cheap booze. That's definitely a pleasant change. As long as I could remember, she's been drinking here and there.

"Hey, honey."

_"Do you have somewhere to stay?"_

_"No." She'd said simply. She'd apparently gotten off the plane and driven straight to the office in a rented Kia._

_I'd contemplated quietly to myself. Should I help her after all of…everything? And if so, where could I get her somewhere to stay? I certainly couldn't drop by the old apartment with her in tow and demand board from my father, and my apartment was (as of then) out of the question…that leaves the least classy place in town, the Camelot. Whoopie?_

_"You need to agree to some ground rules before I do **anything…**." I'd said tersely, confused myself as to why I was helping her out._

_She nodded, confusion evident in her eyes._

"_You will not interact or contact or anything with the Kanes. Duncan's just now getting back…and we already have a rough enough relationship with –"_

_She nodded curtly, showing her understanding. It might be difficult, but she HAS to show restraint and self-control, there's no other way for this to work. _

"_And under no means, will you hassle Dad in anyway. You come into contact and you're to be polite and courteous. That's the least you can do after..." I said grimly, still not over the loss of the reward money. In this situation, I felt like the mother in this situation, _**her **_mother specifically. It was a weird feeling, suddenly being the person in authority._

"_Okay." She'd said simply with an intense expression._

"Did you apply for anything today?" I come in and sit on the bed. "Any job openings?"

She could certainly do clerical work or temping if need be. I need to make sure she's pulling her weight if I'm going to help her, otherwise, this will be _again_ a hopeless case.

Her forehead wrinkles in exasperation. "The only openings for secretarial work are at Kane Software…and that's…"

"Inconvenient and definitely in violation of our agreement." I say seriously, crossing my arms.

"I know." She whispers hollowly. "I'll, uh, keep looking."

* * *

I knock on Wallace's door and he answers, rubbing his head.

"Party too hard, my friend?" I give him a noogie and he groans tiredly and collapses on his bed. I'll take that as a yes, BFF.

"Troy?" I look around the room and find him at the computer.

"Hey, Veronica." He's typing something. I sidle up next to him and sit in an empty chair.

"Is that your essay?" I ask. I'd finished mine the other night when Logan had decided to give Dick a pep talk/intervention about his consistent jack-assery and his chaotic relationship with Mac.

"Nickerson's a windbag." Troy leans back in his chair and lets out a loud yawn.

"That he is."

"Yet, he scores some excellent tail." He smirks and I swat his arm in playful disgust. Apparently, _everyone_ knows about Professor Nickerson's indiscretions _but _his wife.

"Speaking of _excellent tail_, you wanna get me into the marina?"

"Uh…" He looks at me confusedly. "I somehow doubt you want a romantic day out on the open waters with _me_, so, I'm assuming…" He contemplates it "It's for a case?"

"Ding ding ding! You are correct, sir. Big, brawny seafaring businessman supposedly brings his personal assistant slash mistress out every week. Need a money shot." I mimic taking a picture and Troy nods.

"You just need to gain entry…so what? Can't you ask Logan to get you in?" He asks logically. A valid question…but…

"He's visiting his half-brother tomorrow." Charlie had finally gotten the 'cojones' to call Logan back and they'd arranged a friendly meeting.

"Ah, okay. So what? I'm your rich, influential man-candy for the day?"

"That you are." I say gently, but then incredibly seriously add "Just don't get too handsy."

"Wouldn't dream of it." He sniggers and turns back to his surely groundbreaking essay. _Oh brother._

I tug Wallace into the hall. "Kidnapping, girl?"

"Intervention. You. Me. Discussing the big issues. You catch my drift?"

"What big issues, V?" He leans against the wall, a scowl tainting his features. "Peer pressure, drugs…you gonna go all after-school special on my ass?"

"More like…why don't you try to spend some more time with Jackie while she's here? She's only gonna be here for another week before she goes back to New York." Wallace gives a painful sigh and darts me a glare. "What?" I ask simply with a biting tone.

"She tell you about our _disagreement_?"

"Oh, the one where you came off as less than gentlemanly? That the one?" I ask uncomfortably and accusingly.

Wallace rolls his eyes. "She got all green with envy about Jolene being up on me. She has _no right_ to be jealous."

"Why? Because she's the one who left?" I sigh. "Wallace, she has a kid. Would you have rather she not left to be a mother to him? Don't be selfish." I hiss and he considers it.

"Me? Selfish? She's the one that kept her past secret, said she was going to Paris…"

"Okay, so she hasn't always told the truth…but she's had her reasons. Point is, she's leaving in a week and you might not see her again. Just think, BFF, would you rather spend your last days together pissy or at least friendly? It all comes down to whether you want to have regrets or not." I say simply with a shrug.

He considers it all and finally nods as he proceeds to sit on the floor, criss-cross applesauce style. "I guess I should call her."

"Good idea." I smile and shake his shoulder gently. "And Wallace?"

"What, V?"

"Get rid of Jolene."

* * *

I walk into my apartment to find Logan splayed on the couch, asleep. Smiling I lay on top of him, snuggling into his chest.

"Hey, babe." I whisper in his ear gently.

He wraps his arms around me and I smile into his neck.

"We have to get a move on." I insist. "My dad's making meatballs as we cuddle."

"Does that mean I don't have time to ravage you?" He teases lightheartedly and I abruptly get up.

"That's exactly what it means." I walk off to my bedroom to change. My phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Veronica, hey."

"Duncan. What's up?"

"Do you and Logan want to do something tonight?" I can hear a tantrum in the background. God, she's exactly like Lilly.

"We're about to eat with my dad. And after, I have to work. Maybe another time?"

"Sure. Hey, it could be a couples' thing. Clara wants to meet you two." He asks enthusiastically.

"Oh…cool." Talk about awkward encounters.

"I guess, just call me or something."

"Sure." I say in a small voice. "Bye."

* * *

I have to get through this. I have to slough through the awkwardness of the situation. I have to get over the very annoying fact that Troy's arm is wrapped around my waist. As soon as we're out of immediate sight, I pull myself away and we still remain close as to be convincing, but not touching…the way it should be.

Trying to ease the situation, Troy asks gently "Where's this guy supposed to be?"

"Dock 15…I think." I say almost to myself and then look out at the glittering waves.

"You knew Lilly, right?"

"Yeah. I knew her." He says simply with a slight blush on his cheeks. "She was my first kiss." He says quietly and in an embarrassed tone.

"That's adorable." I coo in semi-mocking. I look back out on the waters with a nostalgic smile. "When I was in freshman year and she was a sophomore we skipped school one day…she somehow convinced me, against my better judgment, mind you, to let her take us out on the water."

Troy scoffs knowingly. "That sounds like a very Lilly thing to do."

"Well…we're out on the water and suddenly this storm rolls in and we have no idea how to get back. So we go hide out in the cabin and she's trying to figure out the radio, but of course, she's not finding anything. I'm basically frantic and freaked because what we were doing was illegal without a license and I thought it was karma or something."

Troy laughs at me.

"Finally, there's a ring. Of all things, Lilly's phone is ringing! I thought we were going to die and she'd had her phone the whole time. I fussed at her and she simply said 'Well, wasn't that fun'?"

"Typical Lilly. Celeste on the phone?" He asks and I nod "Betcha she was bitching and moaning like usual." He notes and I nod in agreement.

"Bitching and moaning?" I cold voice behind us asks. We turn around and see Celeste and Duncan with Lilly in her stroller. Oops.

"It's an expression." I say flippantly. Celeste's eyes narrow and she scrutinizes us both. Duncan gives a silent wave of apology and I nod in response.

"A very vivid expression." Celeste snipes at Troy. "You know, it's a pity that your_ lovely_ parents had to go through all of that heartache over you...How was rehab anyway, Troy?" Troy flinches and I put my hand gently on his arm to steady him.

"Enlightening." He says firmly. "Hey, Duncan."

"Hey…" Duncan says only to trail off into an awkward silence.

"Break into any more houses, Veronica?" She asks pointedly of me and a brief wave of guilt sweeps me over.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I cross my arms in defiance. I don't owe her anything.

"Of course, you don't." She says simply to Duncan's confusion. "Well, we better be going. Lilly needs to get her fill of the coast before the day's done. It was a pleasure." She gives us a sickeningly sweet smile and leads Duncan and Lilly away. Duncan motions a "call me" and I nod.

"Witch." Troy mutters below his breath.

* * *

Entering my apartment later, I smell the faint aroma of waffles…and ice cream: my favorite dessert. _Wait, what?_

I enter the kitchen and lean against the counter in confusion. Logan and my mom are baking. Wait, Logan and my mom…_baking_? This is like the Twilight Zone. I swear there's going to be a narration by Rod Serling any second now.

Finally Logan notices my presence and gives me a challenging smile, the one he usually reserves for the paparazzi. He's pissed…about something.

"Hello, sweetums." He coos and my face falls. Yeah, he's definitely mad.

"Hey…you." I cross my arms.

"Excuse us, Ms. Mars." Logan apologizes to my mother and we adjourn to my bedroom.

"What's wrong with you?" I get down to the point.

"With me?" He smirks and shakes his head. "So, riddle me this…why would Duncan call and tell me he say you and Troy down at the marina looking all chummy? Alone, no less?" His voice is laced with jealousy. Never mind the fact that Troy's been nothing but civil and gentlemanly lately, it just all comes down to the fact that we were once together and that he recently still had an attraction to me.

"Because it's the truth." I say firmly.

He laughs uncomfortably and unhappily looks me over.

"I needed his help for a case is all. So what if we joked a little bit?" I ask rhetorically. Logan's not going to answer. I've pretty much got him backed into a corner. "I didn't cheat on you if that's what you're suggesting."

"Hm." Logan scoffs, but deep down, I know he knows I wouldn't, I'm not wired that way. "Another matter. Your absentee mother just suddenly shows up at your door with ingredients to your favorite dessert. Doesn't that strike you as a little strange and awfully coincidental?"

"No." I look at my feet guiltily. "I invited her." I whisper almost inaudibly.

"You…didn't tell me." He crosses his arms in hurt.

"It was a sudden thing…and you were busy over Charlie and…" I bite my lip.

"You don't have to make excuses to me." He tenderly places his hand on my cheek. "Though, next time…I'd like a heads up." He says gently.

"I'm sorry." I whisper genuinely as he pulls me closer.

He places a kiss on top of my head. "I know."

* * *

The next day at the office, shortly after I turn in my English II essay, I find someone in my office. Weevil nods at me as he continues to answer the phones.

I walk in and sit down behind the desk.

"Ms. Mars?" My visitor asks gently.

I nod. "How can I help you, Mrs.?"

"Minerva Nickerson."

Oh boy, my professor's wife. Definitely wasn't expecting that.

"What can I help you out with today?" I ask politely, taking in her appearance. She's middle-aged, but still a bit younger than Professor Nickerson. Her hair is highlighted, cut in a polite, conservative bob. She's wearing a lime green sweater set with matching black pants. You can tell she used to be a stunner before the wrinkles and too much sun exposure took its toll.

"There's, erm, some rumors that my husband isn't exactly being faithful…that he took a younger woman with him to the Bahamas for a conference this past summer…" She pauses, as if for once taking in the unpleasantness of the situation. "One of his former students, I've heard. He works up at Hearst College."

I gulp and I knot my hands under the desk. "I know." I reply, "He's my English professor."

"Then this should be fairly easy…" She crinkles her brow "Wait, how old are you?"

"Twenty." I say simply and she looks confused. "Don't worry, I'm certified and everything."

"Well, have you heard anything about this…situation?"

Be honest, Veronica. Pull the band-aid off. "Yes. There were some rumors circulating. I heard it was his T.A, Phil-"

"Philippa Drexler?" She laughs unbelievingly. "I've never seen such an unattractive girl in my life."

I frown. Philippa's not necessarily ugly or anything, she's just differently attractive…kind of in a bookish, educated way.

"Well, that's the rumor." I insist, she raises an eyebrow back at me and crosses her arms. "I don't know how much truth there is to it…." I pause, shaking my head. "How did you meet your husband?" A simple question, surely. She's a bit younger than him already, could it be possible she had been in the same position Philippa currently is?

"Well, I was his…" She sighs. "I get your point. Fine. But, can you do this for me?"

"Of course." I say casually. But there's nothing easy about this. I don't want my GPA to tank.

I take down some information: favorite spots, hobbies, etc. and she leaves, to my relief. Weevil comes in and sits down.

"There's someone else out there." He says simply, relaxing and leaning back in the chair.

"Fine…go on and send them in." I groan. He brings the chair back down to the floor and gives me a serious look.

"I know her, she's a nice lady. Can you do this as a favor to me? She's not that well off-"

He asks almost pleadingly.

"I get it, Weevs. Consider it as good as done." I say politely and he ushers her in. She sits down, clutching her handbag to her as Weevil closes the door again.

"Hi, Weevil said he knows you, Ms.?"

"Castillo." She offers up her hand and I shake it. Where Mrs. Nickerson had a sort of snotty air about her, Ms. Castillo seems pretty down to earth, and I can respect that.

"What can I do for you, Ms. Castillo?"

"My daughter, Rosa, we think she ran off with her boyfriend. She's not graduated and he's one of those boys. You know…" She trails off. "He's one of those boys that thinks they're untouchable." Hm. I know fairly well what those boys are like.

"Does she go to Neptune High?" She nods and I begin to take notes. "What's her boyfriend's name?"

"Luke Enbom." John's little brother. Interesting. After a near half hour, I've got a list of hobbies and information. I bid Ms. Castillo adieu and Weevil comes in again.

"Thanks, V. It really means a lot."

"Rosa's important to you, huh?" I give him a weak smile.

"I grew up with her around, you know? She was like my little sister, her dad was never around, the guy got her mom pregnant in high school. She always looked up to me." He says wistfully, crossing his arms. "I don't know why, though." He laughs wistfully, almost to himself.

"I'll see what I can do."

* * *

Dressed up in my party garb, Logan picks me up and we drive over to Duncan's new place. There's a big Welcome Back bash going on, surely to be chock full of 09ers. But, I can deal. Apparently, people from UCLA and all over the state are coming out to get their party on.

We enter and the music's already pumping away. _Nice place, Duncan. I'm pretty Jake and Celeste put the money up for this snazzy new place._ Duncan hasn't even started trying to get his GED yet.

I see him in the corner, a sun-kissed blonde hanging off his arm. Clara. He gives me a welcoming nod and goes back to his conversation. Glancing into the kitchen, I notice Parker chatting up some brunette guy. Good for her. Wow, is that Casey Gant? Sure enough, it is. I nudge Logan to look and he gets a mildly satisfied grin on his face. Beneath the intermediate cockiness, Casey can be a really great guy, and Parker needs that. Dick's snuggling with Mac on the couch, and despite the fact that they've been together for months, to me it's still a shocking sight. Troy's talking up some curvaceous brunette in the corner and all I can see are bright smiles. Logan and I settle on the couch, sinking in. We've decided to stay the night in Duncan's guest bedroom so a designated driver won't be an issue. Logan grabs me a drink and we both sip quietly. Suddenly the music begins to pump, which seems to be a cue for all the distastefully dressed girls to get out on the floor. Which includes, unsurprisingly, Madison Sinclair. Logan winces and turns his eyes down to the floor. I know he's not trying to show it, but his eyes are clouding over in guilt and disgust. I squeeze his hand gently and give him a supportive smile. Sure, I might not ever completely get over the whole Aspen debacle…but I can certainly try. After all, what's more important: his wasted night with my nemesis or the man I love?

"I love you." He whispers in my ear, as if trying to reassure me.

"I know."


	17. Call and Return

Luke and Rosa have been extremely careful…especially for teenagers apparently overrun with hormones. All the traces put on their cards, actually, on everything… and nothing's come of them. They've basically succeeded at disappearing off the face of the earth.

There's actually a slight bit of guilt gnawing at my gut. Weevil told me that he used to tell Rosa stories about me, about my detective work…and she'd loved it. What if something I'd told him, and he'd in turn told her, had such an impact that it's helping her now evade notice? What if Luke's not as great a guy as she thinks he is?

Rosa didn't fit the PCHer mold at all, she was all about football games and dances and school functions. She was a cheerleader, the only non-09er cheerleader in years, actually. I look through my senior yearbook and see her face smiling back at me from the freshman pages and notice her cheeriness. I feel horrible for Ms. Castillo and what her whole family is going through… and I'm going to do all I can to bring her back…if she wants to, that is.

Now onto my usual predicament, where to follow philandering husbands. Generally it's stereotypical, a pick up at the Seventh Veil and a stay at the Camelot…unless it's a longtime mistress or something else completely. Professor Nickerson goes right under the latter category. While most of the men I follow take their ladies to ratty motel rooms, my English professor took his to the Bahamas. There's only a _slight_ difference.

I've got a camera stationed in the hall across from his lecture hall and office, he and Philippa are working late tonight. Suddenly, I see her storm out in tears, taking off her designer glasses and wiping her eyes as she slumps against the wall in a fit. Nickerson comes out, locks his door and leads her out by the arm, checking the perimeter. They suddenly go out of sight and I see them both suddenly in the parking lot getting into his shiny BMW convertible_. Snazzy_.

I've got my chance for a money shot and a payout. Just gotta book it and get in on the chase. They finally end up at a Victorian-style suburban home. Much, much later…after continuous calls from Logan as to my whereabouts, they finally come outside and…click, money shot.

* * *

He's back at my place, lounging on the couch, lazily watching basic television.

"Hey, sugar…" I say sweetly with a southern twang and come inside.

"So question?" I close the door and nervously anticipate it. _What is it this time, Logan? Worried I'm tracking drug dealers?_ "Why don't you have satellite…or at least cable?"

"I don't know." I shrug playfully, relieved. "I'm not really a television person…more into cinema." I snuggle into him and sigh.

"Speaking of 'cinematic adventures', you do realize we were supposed to start one two hours ago, right?" He taps his watch.

"I was busy tracking my English professor and his lady friend. Job." I shrug with a nervous expression. "Sorry, babe." I kiss his cheek.

"Don't get me wrong, I fully respect your independence and ambition…but not when it makes you horribly late for our dates." He teases.

"Hm." I smile. "I love you."

"You better. I had to forego some really good pizza delivery to come over here, only to wait for you…forever." He says dramatically.

"Dick order in?" I yawn.

"He and Mac are sort of doing the same thing we are…but they made it perfectly clear I was welcome to join in on the fun…at least for a little bit."

"I'm sorry you had to miss out on the pizza." I pout. "I think I have some pizza rolls in my freezer…if you want?" I offer lamely.

"I think I'll pass." He grumbles and flicks on the DVD player. Yahtzee.

* * *

I'm eating lunch with my mom at the office and I've had Weevil put a hold on all my calls. It's a sacrifice, I know. Mom's finally found a job and she starts tomorrow. It's certainly about time she's become a contributing member of society, don't you think?

Lasagna. Oh, the woman knows me too well. Even after all this time, the one thing that hasn't changed is my passionate love for Italian food.

"So when's Logan going to pop the question?" She asks with a playful smile and I almost choke. I'm not sure if she's serious or trying to tease me.

"What?" I blurt, wiping under my lip.

"Do you know when-?"

"Yeah…I got it. No. I don't know." I say simply as I put my fork down.

"I think it'll be soon." She says softly, her eyes glittering romantically. It's these kind of romantic notions that kept her involved with Jake Kane all those years. It gives me a slight shiver and I shake my head.

"Logan knows I'm not ready. That _we're_ not ready." I reply sensibly, taking another bite.

"Ugh, Veronica. You're so logical and cut and dry. Just like your father." She shakes her head with a weak nostalgic smile. I know she's just trying to a jab at me, but she's only making me prouder. I love being like my father, sharing his instinctive wit and ambition.

"I just like knowing what I'm doing with my life, having plans." I shrug.

She suddenly shakes her head gently and takes another bite of her manicotti.

Abruptly, the office door opens and I see my father. _Oh crap_. Weevil's not at his desk, did he go on break?

"Hey, honey." He comes in and kisses me on my forehead, bypassing Mom like she's some random stranger. "I'm sorry to interrupt…" He finally looks at her and focuses. "Oh."

"Hi, Keith." She says politely with a small smile.

"Lianne." He addresses her stiffly and darts me an inquisitive look. "I, uh, just came by to tell you Duncan called the apartment. Guess he couldn't contact you anyway else. Said he and Clara were going over to Logan's tonight. Just wanted you to know."

"Thanks, Dad." I smile and he nods and leaves the room. "I'll be back, Mom." I close the door behind me and find him pacing in the lobby. "Dad, I-"

"_You_ don't think." He says simply. "You didn't think to even tell me that you were having lunch with your mother, let alone that she was in town."

"I didn't want you two to…not when she's still so fragile." I cross my arms apologetically. "She's sober, but she's still a bit…you know."

"I know." He sighs. "I've seen hundreds of people like this, honey."

"She's really vulnerable right now…and I'm trying to get her back on her feet. I'm sorry I didn't tell you."

"I understand." He says gently as he comfortingly put his hands on my shoulders "I'm proud of you, you know that?"

I nod. "Thanks. I'm proud of you too, Sheriff."

* * *

I enter the suite and Dick and Logan are battling at some video game vehemently.

I look at Mac who's lounging tiredly on the couch. "How long?"

"Two hours. _Two_ hours." She groans and takes a sip of her Diet Coke.

I sit next to her. "You've got to admire their consistence."

"Definitely." She mutters and finally grabs the television remote.

She turns the television off and Dick yells out "What the…Mackie?"

"Dick, you need to stop. Want carpal tunnel?" She asks sweetly but her eyes make it look like she's about to punch him.

"Guess not." He mumbles weakly and Logan smirks back at me. _Whipped!_

"Sugarpuss…" Logan regards me and sits down next to me as Mac goes to continue her conversation with Dick.

"I prefer Sugar_pants_." I whine.

"Too bad." He gives me a gentle kiss on the cheek and I hug him. "How was your day?"

"Weird. You might think it'd be normal that my dad would come in when I'm having a girl talk with my Mom…but eh, not so much."

"He didn't know…?"

"It might've slipped my mind…" I reply in a ditzy tone.

"_Right_…" He runs his hand through his hair. "You're the elephant that never forgets."

I snap my fingers. "I keep _forgetting_ that you know me so well."

"Ha. Ha." He remarks dryly and I gently hit him in the shoulder.

"I'm getting a drink." I whisper softly in his ear and give him a lingering kiss. "Be right back."

I fiddle around in the suite refrigerator and finally find a water bottle marked "Veronica's. Do not touch under pain of death or head tilt" in Logan's handwriting. _Cute._

When I come back over, I find Logan and Dick having a conversation. I sit on Logan's lap as he says, "Yeah, I got Killian."

"Dude…" Dick guffaws.

"Who's Killian?"

"Killian McDonald's a grade-A hottie in our Life Science class. Ow!" Dick exclaims as he makes a female form with his hands. I raise my eyebrows as Mac stands behind him glaring.

"'A grade-A hottie'?" I mouth silently to Logan, using bunny ears for emphasis.

"She's my partner for some project. Professor assigned her as my wife." Logan groans.

"Your wife? Is this like advanced Home Economics?" I joke. I mean, really, why _pay _to take a class like that in college unless it's somehow related to your major? It's definitely not in any way related to Dick and Logan's course studies.

"Exactly." Dick pretends to use a finger gun.

"Is she my fiercest competition?" I mock-pout at Logan.

"Ronnie, she's _smoking_." Dick insists.

"There is no competition." Logan smiles at me defensively.

"That's nice to hear." I whisper back teasingly. There's a knock on the door and Mac goes to answer it, leading Duncan and Clara in.

"Welcome to our humble abode." Logan and Dick say in synchronicity.

"Mind you, it was mine first." Duncan says confidently and he and Clara immediately plop down on the couch. I suddenly remember all the fun times Duncan and I had on this very same couch, in this very same room. It's almost unsettling. "Roll call, guys?" Duncan asks tiredly.

"Richard Casablancas, Junior. But to you, little lady, I'm Dick." At that, Mac rolls her eyes and jabs Dick in the side with her elbow.

"I'm Mac, this lughead's girlfriend."

"Logan." Logan salutes her.

"Veronica." I shrug with a carefree smile. With my introduction, there's almost a flicker of recognition in Clara's eyes. Had Duncan told her about me… about us?

* * *

There's been a hit on Luke's card. Finally. I call up Ms. Castillo and I can hear her enthusiasm as it practically explodes from her vocal cords. I check it out and order some surveillance shots from the convenience store where it was used.

As for Professor Nickerson, apparently, he's been using his wife's old home (that she'd kept for sentimental value) for his late night "study sessions" with Philippa. With a quick exchange of money and pictures, we finish up. Of course with the agreement that her supremely talented photographer would remain completely anonymous…I'm pretty tired of getting involved with my teachers' personal lives. Speaking of, I'm supposed to go see Landry in prison soon to thank him for his recommendation to Quantico and dish about my experiences. _That should be so very fun._

Wallace has been down in the dumps since his makeup with Jackie, and then her subsequent departure. I definitely owe him some BFF quality time, and his morose behavior only makes it more reasonable to hold a Veronica and Wallace pity party. We hold them every so often…but only in the event of a _total emergency_. For example: when Duncan skipped town, every time Logan and I broke up, when Jackie left the first time, after Cassidy's funeral…stuff like that.

"Look what I brought!" I say cheerily as I come into the dorm. I motion to a big plastic bag full of movies and junk food. Wallace's expression briefly brightens as he scurries to rifle through it.

"This is why I love you, V. You're so thorough." Wallace smirks as he lifts bag after bag of candy out of the grocery bag.

"Oh, you." I sigh dramatically.

"No, really…" His voice suddenly becomes serious and our eyes lock. "This means a lot to me." He gives me a weak smile and then he begins to go through the DVDs. "South Park Movie? You're so typical."

"I resent that remark." I sit down on the bed.

"And _you know_ I don't care if you do." He slips a DVD in his and Troy's joint DVD player and it starts up.

"You know me too well." I reply sweetly and we fall into silence as the movie starts up.

* * *

I hate society functions. Like seriously loathe them. It's always a bunch of 09ers and their parents blathering about how important and amazing they all are. It's really sickening. I used to attend them all the time with Lilly and Duncan back in the day, and those were only really fun because Lilly had a tendency to spike the punch and say inappropriate things.

The only reason I agreed to go with Logan is that the Enboms are at our table…sans Luke, of course. The Gants are going to be at our table too, with Casey. He and Parker have been hitting it off pretty well and she's even his date for the thing.

"Uf! This caviar is miserable." Mrs. Gant says unhappily to her husband, who in turn shakes his head disapprovingly.

"How is UCLA treating you, Casey?" Mr. Enbom asks in a booming voice.

"It's pretty good." Casey replies politely "Really _enlightening_."

"That's good to hear!" Mr. Enbom smiles widely.

"How are your boys?" Mrs. Gant asks as she cuts her steak. John is sitting there looking utterly and completely bored.

"Oh, they're good. John's on the Dean's List this year, aren't you, honey?" Mrs. Enbom coos. John nods and I can hear Logan stifle a snigger.

"What about Luke? He's still doing basketball at Neptune?"

"Oh yes. He's taking a break right now though. He's in Jamaica for a study abroad program." _B.S., Lady._

"Oh really? They do study abroad at Neptune HS now?" I chime in and Logan looks at me quizzically.

"For the more promising students, yes." She replies sharply. Last time I checked, Luke was nowhere near the top ranks of his class, sure he had some AP classes, but nothing about his academic record struck me as spectacular.

"Well…that's _nice_." I remark with a sweet smile and Parker rolls her eyes at me as if mirroring my attitude. Mrs. Enbom is still a little huffy as she turns to her husband to discuss the next charity gala for the company.

"Subtlety thy name is Mars." Logan mutters in my ear and I give his hand a tight squeeze.

There's a ring from Mrs. Enbom's handbag and she promptly excuses herself with a pained expression. Taking the cue, I sweetly say "I need to use the ladies' room." and Logan nods.

I walk into the bathroom quietly only to hear Mrs. Enbom or "Kitty" talking in a hushed whisper from one of the stalls.

"When are you coming back? People are starting to ask questions!" She pauses "Yes, son, I know she's important to you…but-" Finally she replies "Fine. I'll talk to you later." She comes out of the stall and smoothes her skirt.

I'm leaning against the wall. "That was Luke, wasn't it?" I ask bluntly.

She seems caught off guard. "I assure you that I have no idea what you're talking about, Ms., Ms…" She replies condescendingly.

"Mars? _Kitty_, you know my name. I know you do." I pause "Now, look, I'm working for Ms. Castillo, Rosa's mother?"

"Oh, _her_…so?"

"Do you know where they are? She's worried and I'm pretty sure you are too."

Finally Kitty relaxes and stops washing her hands. "He calls me from a payphone. I don't know." She says softly, as if about to cry.

"Give me the number and I can track them down." I say gently as to not upset her even more. "I'll do my best to get them home."

She pulls out her cell phone and I copy down the numbers into my own. "Are you sure this is going to work?"

"It's my job to make this work, Mrs. Enbom. This is what I do." I say with confidence as we both return to the party.

* * *

I've got to get this off my chest. It's been bothering me for a while. Why does Clara seem to have something against me? I know Duncan's still out with his parents at the function, Logan and I only just now left.

He's waiting in the car as I go knock on the door.

Clara opens up the door and she leads me in. "What's up, Veronica?" She asks as we sit down on the couch.

"You don't seem to like me very much and I just want to know why." I say simply. It's never really bothered me before when people didn't like me. But, of course, I knew their reasoning. This is a completely different situation and if we're going to be in such close proximity, I need the truth.

"What makes you think I don't like you?" She asks defensively and crosses her arms.

"Every since we met, you've been weird to me."

"Do you really need an explanation?" She asks impatiently and I dumbly nod back. "Fine. You're _Veronica Mars_. You're like this superhero around here…and you were Duncan's first love." She fades into a soft tone. "God…Veronica, you helped him flee the country… You know he's still got your picture in his wallet?" At her final emphasis and hurt expression, my heart stops in my chest. I'm still that important to Duncan? I'm that important to _everyone_?

"I…didn't know that, Clara. And I'm sorry if that _threatens_ you in any way." I pause. "Duncan and I…we were through a long time ago. He's my friend, sure, but _nothing_ more than that." I consider it for a moment and finally say. "I'd really like for us to get along."

She rubs her forehead nervously and finally looks me in the eye "I'd like that too."

"And if something like this happens again, like you get insecure about anything, anything at all…just be honest with me and I can give you the no-holds-barred truth about it…okay?"

"Okay." She finally replies with a smile. "Thanks."

* * *

**A/N:** I know the last bit was mostly filler, but I thought Clara needed a little character development. shrugs hope y'all enjoyed it. More updates soon. :)


	18. Little Miss Obsessive

I've finally got Luke and Rosa pinned to a certain area from the number. Apparently, Luke's been using the same payphone in Barbados to call his mother once a week. For a runaway, he's got some serious devotion to his mother. I wish I could say the same for Rosa. Ms. Castillo's been almost inconsolable.

Neither party will pay for my ticket to get them home. Ms. Castillo's far too destitute and the Enboms are afraid that if it comes out that Luke's off in Barbados, their reputations will be irreparably marred. _Big freaking deal._

I'm contemplating it all seriously as Logan drives us to the restaurant we're supposed to have a daunting double date with Duncan and Clara at.

"Leave the detective work at the office, Veronica." Logan says quietly.

"What? No. I'm thinking about…what food I'm in the mood for."

"You know, I might even have a better B.S. detector than you. That was a bald faced lie." He smirks and then says seriously. "I know you're worried about them. But at some point, you've got to let go. You can only do so much."

"Sorry." I whisper and grab his free hand.

"Now. Give me the lowdown on what I can and can't say. I certainly don't want this to be awkward."

"Well, no sexual innuendos relating to me in anyway or in fact, even yourself." I smile. "No comments made in poor taste…I don't know, honestly. Logan, just be polite and remember that we have a very colorful history."

"To put it lightly." He interjects and I shake my head. "Ok. I'll be the perfect gentleman…if that's possible? Do you think I'm civilized enough?"

"On a good day."

* * *

"So." I say openly and Clara gives me a conciliatory smile. "How about those Lakers?"

Logan stifles a chuckle and puts his hand on my leg in apology.

"So I took my GED." Duncan finally says. "Passed it."

"As if there was any doubt." Logan high-fives him "Ever the overachiever."

"So where are you thinking about for college?" I ask, sipping my strawberry lemonade.

"Well, obviously Hearst. It's local and you guys are all there. Plus, Dad's got some sway with some of the board members."

"What would college admission be without monetary influence?" I ask rhetorically. Dick got into Hearst on it, and that boy's about as dense as a doornail. "Just think, Duncan, you'll be an underclassman! We can haze you." I dart a look at Logan with a playful smile.

"I'm a potential freshman only by default. And just you wait, I still might be president one day."

_Right._ It's a sad day when Duncan finally falls to his parents' expectations.

"DK!? What about all that mad artistry you're supposedly up to?" Logan asks dumbfounded.

"I'm going to _minor_ in Art." Duncan offers almost disappointedly.

"You really are pretty good, sweetie." Clara smiles lovingly at him and takes his hand. "Do you even want to be a lawyer?" She asks incredulously.

Duncan blushes. "It's practical."

"But, dude, you're so passive." Logan raises a good point.

I shrug at Duncan apologetically and the same thoughts are passing through my own mind. Duncan…a _lawyer_? This is surely all Jake's and Celeste's doing.

* * *

As for Logan's pseudo-wife, Killian McDonald, I've certainly done my homework on that little hussy. Overall, only a few run-ins with the law: a disorderly conduct and a few other minor offenses. Otherwise, it's mostly small driving infractions.

The general consensus of my peers reveals that she's_ both_ busty and slutty. Neither of which ease my frazzled nerves. Go figure, Veronica Mars is the jealous type.

My main complaint is that she's monopolizing Logan's time with this stupid Life Science project. I mean really, how long does it take to figure out some fake wedding plans? A few hours max? She's even supposed to go over to the suite on Valentines' Day to do a cramming session with him. Of course, she's going to vacate when the time comes for Logan and I to have dinner.

Apparently, according to him, he's got a romantic night in planned for us. He's going to have scented candles about and sweet jazz music floating around. Supposedly, it's all those sappy, sweet things that we _crazy girls_ love blended into one romantic night.

I know it sounds lame, but personally, I can't wait.

* * *

"_Kiss me…under the milky twilight_!" I sing out as I straighten my hair in the morning.

"No thanks." Wallace laughs as he casually walks into my apartment. He's now got his own key. I suppose it's a privilege only extended to my closest people. Only my dad, Logan (of course), and Wallace have one. Mac is still on the waiting list.

"Now, what're you doing here?" I ask as he stands in my bathroom doorway.

"What? It's suddenly a problem that I visit my best friend?" Wallace sighs. "I was planning on taking you out to a completely platonic v-day breakfast…but maybe I should reconsider?"

"Is this what they call a surprise?" I gasp playfully and brush my hair. "Aw. It's a date. Figuratively of course." I say and he nods in agreement.

Sucked into the romanticism of the day, I go back to my room and slip on a red long sleeved tee with a cute silver locket shaped like a heart. Adorable, I know.

And how cute is it that Wallace is taking me to IHOP? There's certainly not any kind of originality to that. That's generic breakfast. Honestly, I'll take a gritty, salt-of-the-earth place any day.

"Are you seriously looking through the kid's menu?" Wallace laughs. "Superfly, you could eat everything on that menu and still not be satisfied."

"Admittedly, it's a bit sad that I have an insatiable weakness for the smiley face pancakes…but really, I'm not that ashamed." I sigh.

"I can say the same for my proclivity for Gushers fruit snacks." Wallace says below his breath, obviously embarrassed.

"I think that's _sweet_, BFF." I smile and he shakes his head in denial.

* * *

How can I possibly sit through another boring lecture? For a guy snagging a girl half his age, Professor Nickerson's horribly monotone and terribly drawling. Not at all the Don Juan he's supposed to be.

I swear Troy's snoring next to me. He's attempted at taking notes, but they're all smeared and smudged from where he's laid his head on them. Any second now, I'm going to find a complete thesis statement smudged onto his cheek. If I were a much pettier person, I would've drawn a sharpie mustache on him by now.

But, alas, I'm actually mentally gearing up for that all-important date tonight. What if Logan decides to choose tonight of all nights to pop the question?

Isn't that terribly cliché? And plus, we're still not technically ready. At least, I'm totally not. But as clear as day, I can imagine it all. _From the scented candles and Barry White mood music, all the way down to his facial expression when he gets down on his knee…_

Snap out of it, Veronica! You're not a romantic. You're a _realist_.

_"So Donut's finally bucked up the courage?" Lilly asked as she brushed my hair._

_"Huh?" I asked tiredly._

"_You two are going to the movies…and to dinner? Italian, no less." Lilly scoffs "It's totally a date."_

"_No, it's not." I'd said defensively. Sure, it was no secret I had a crush on him, but the whole situation was terribly embarrassing._

"'_When the moon hits your eye like a big pizza pie, that's Amore!'" She'd hammed it up and swooned. _

"_Shut up!" I'd squealed and playfully batted at her arm._

"_Logan and I definitely had a bet going about you two. He'd bet me two red carpet premiere tickets that you two would never get around to the whole dating thing. I almost agreed. I mean, come on, V. You've got this secret fabulousness going on and Duncan's…well…he's Duncan."_

"_Lilly!" I'd hissed. "He's your brother! …and he's definitely so not boring." I'd said a bit too gently._

"_Are you making a reference to that secret admirer note he left in your locker?" Lilly smirked in ridicule. "'Roses are red, violets are blue, I'd really like to go out with you?'" She giggled._

"_Okay, admittedly, it's not that original…but the sentiment's there. He's a really sweet guy." I'd insisted._

"_Whatever." Lilly shook her head. "Anyway, what're you going to wear?" She'd finally chirped and began to rifle through my closet._

"Okay, that's all for today, remember, class…we have an exam next class. Study!" Professor Nickerson shouts out and I wake from my daydream.

I nudge Troy and he wipes a bit of slobber from his lip. _Ew._

* * *

Dark red halter dress?

Check.

To die for heels?

Check.

Sexy, sexy under-things?

Check.

I nervously enter the elevator and press the floor number. With a quick and abrupt stop, we hit another floor. Room Service comes in with a big cart and I end up squished in a corner, unbelievably uncomfortable.

"Ratner." I say with a quick shake of my head.

"Veronica Mars. You here to visit that money-grubbing boyfriend of yours?" He smirks and leans against the elevator wall, apparently proud of himself.

"Why yes. We've got some _festivities_ planned." I exclaim and Jeff cringes, just as I'd intended. "What do you and your special lady friend have planned? Sensual massages? A frothy bubble bath?"

"For your information and probable amusement, I have to work the graveyard shift. Yippee." He says unenthusiastically.

"Sorry, bud." I say honestly. Really, working on Valentines' Day? I'm so happy I make my own schedules.

"Yeah. Whatever." Jeff scoffs as we hit Logan's floor. "Have fun." He notes sarcastically.

"Oh, I will." I smile back to him and walk down the hall. Once at the suite door, I slip in my card and enter.

"Honey, I'm home!" I joke and my expression immediately falls.

I've just caught Logan mid-lip-lock with that girl, Killian McDonald. I immediately drop my handbag. Noticing me, Logan panics and pulls away.

"Veronica…" Logan shouts after me as I grab my bag and run out the door.

It's suddenly as if I'm sixteen again. I feel like I've just caught Logan cheating on Lilly with Yolanda. Except, this time…I'm the spurned girlfriend…and god, it hurts like hell.

Worst. Valentines' Day. **Ever**.

* * *

I need therapy. I've been replaying the scene in my head for days now. Logan and Killian kissing in front of me. Between repeats, pesky images emerge in my head of Madison and Logan together in Aspen.

It's all a mess. I'm at my dad's. Logan doesn't have a key to this apartment, and a sufficient amount of my things are still here, so I won't have to scramble for clothes or necessities. Plus, I won't have to worry about him visiting unexpectedly.

He's called multiple times and I've only just now gotten the strength to check my voicemails.

"_Veronica, just hear me out. I'm sorry-"_ is how most of them start. Then come the pleading and excuses.

What're you really sorry for, Logan? _Cheating on me or getting caught?_

There's a hesitant knock at the door and I sigh involuntarily. I slip on a tank top and some boyfriend jeans and stand by the door in hesitation.

"Veronica, I know you're in there." Logan says softly. "Just talk to me. Please?"

And say what? I'm so hurt and upset over the whole thing that I almost never want to see you again? Will that suffice?

Nervously, I open the door and stand there expectantly.

"You never called me back." He says hollowly as he strides in.

"You _cheated_ on me. What part of that do you not understand?" I say waveringly.

"If you'd listened to my what, fifty messages? You would know that she kissed me." He shakes his head. "_She_ kissed _me_."

"You expect me to believe that? You told the same thing to Lilly." I know it's a stab in the back, mentioning Lilly…but right now, I don't even care.

"You know, you could just trust me." He says bitingly and my heart pains a little bit. "We are nothing like Lilly and I were. I love you, Veronica. You. And god, I trust you with everything I have. And, maybe…I thought you trusted me too." He says and I can see it in his eyes that he's upset.

"I thought that maybe I could." I whisper and cross my arms uncomfortably.

"If this helps, I talked to my professor and took an incomplete for the project. I can't work with that…_whore_…anymore."

"Logan, you can't-"…_fail_. It'll put you on probation.

"I can and I will. Look, it's important to me. I mean, honestly, it's at least a little bit flattering that someone…that you have such high expectations of me." He replies coolly, but I know his statement is genuine.

"You know…if I didn't, this would be so much easier. I just need a little…no, a lot of time, to process this." I finally say.

He simply nods and puts an envelope in my hand. "I know that case means a lot to you, I was going to give you this the other night…so here. Enjoy?" He politely nods again and turns on his heel to leave.

Once he's left, I open it up. A two-way ticket to Barbados.

* * *

"How're you coping?" Mac asks, peering me in the eye.

"I wish people would just quit asking that." I grumble as I channel surf. I've finally gotten back the courage to stay in my own apartment again.

"Veronica, I'm just worried…"

"Are you sure you're not just probing me for Dick? Who will in turn tell Logan?" I ask logically. Mac takes a nervous gulp. I nod "Exactly."

"Partly…but mostly, I'm just concerned. If this helps, apparently Logan's a mess too. Not nearly as bad as last year's debacle…but still, mope-y as all get out."

"Ok?" With a long sigh, I finally reply. "For the record, I _do_ trust him…I just need a little time to absorb and understand it all. Which he knows, so there's no juicy gossip here…which, _I know_, will disappoint Dick."

"Veronica, this is me, come on. You know you don't have to pretend you're okay." Mac offers and I give her a weak smile.

"Thanks." I pause and finally speak "It's just hard is all."

"Yeah, I know what you mean…" Mac trails off and her cheeks blush. "It'll get better."

I scoff and finally say "Sure." I really hope it does…I really hope so. "Okay, enough of this stupid mushy romance talk. How about an action movie?" I joke.

Mac nods and pats my shoulder comfortingly.

* * *

The next day, I'm unexpectedly chipper. It's definitely a radical change from my previously morose behavior. I'm just kind of in a rebellious mood, like I don't even care anymore, about anything and everything…and maybe I don't.

Piz and I end up talking for a while in the cafeteria over our bean burritos. Summer plans, courses, anything's game. I think he somehow got the vibe that I'm somewhat single again or at least on the outs with Logan. He's put on his A-game, flirting quite voraciously.

Before I know it, we're in the janitor's closet making out. I don't even know why I'm doing this. _I feel horrible._

Suddenly, I pull away and blurt out "I can't do this."

"Did… did I do something _wrong_?" Piz asks and he looks like a wounded puppy.

"It's not fair to you…I can't-" I'm tearing up now.

"Logan?" He asks almost rhetorically with an understanding nod.

"Yeah." I sigh with a slight nod. "I'm _really_ sorry, Piz." I kiss his cheek pityingly and he crosses his arms uncomfortably.

"No worries." He says in a low voice. I know he's trying to hide it, but it's clear that he's at least a little upset.

"Look, Piz, I'm-" But before I finish, he's out the door and gone. For a brief moment, I sulk and then try to gain back my composure.

With a final sigh, I stride out into the hallway only to collide with someone.

"Clumsy much, Ron-Ron?" Dick jokes as he helps me up and then he looks me in the eye. "So the rebound _doesn't_ start with me? I gotta admit I'm a little hurt…" He puts his hand to his heart.

"A. You're dating one of my best friends, B. What just happened didn't matter at all, it was just really stupid and I really regret it, C. I find you completely unattractive, and finally, D. please, please don't tell Logan." I almost plead.

"…and here I was thinking you were hot for my bod!" Dick smirks. "…and okay, I won't tell Logan."

I raise an eyebrow suspiciously. Dick's a known terrible secret-keeper. "Are you sure you're actually going to keep your mouth shut?"

"No guarantees." Dick shrugs and walks away. "But I can try."

* * *

Arranging an itinerary for my Barbados trip, I'm hastily scribbling in the cafeteria again. I've been avidly avoiding Piz, I just don't want to face those puppy-dog eyes of his…plus it'd be extremely awkward.

"So Piz?" Logan sits across from me and stretches out.

""So Piz?" What?" I don't even look up.

"Janitor's Closet." Logan says simply and I look him in the eye.

"Dick told you." I say with an odd finality. Go figure. He nods back, almost looking a bit hurt. "It didn't mean anything." I say dismissively. _Must kill Dick._

"I'm sure it did to Piz." Logan sighs.

"Since when have you been in any way concerned with Piz?" I almost feel disgusted. "And for the record, I feel horrible about it. I couldn't even get on with it because I kept thinking about you…_Happy now_?" I ask angrily.

"Of course I'm not." Logan looks me in the eye. "You should know by now that the _only_ time I'm really happy is when I'm with _you_, Veronica."

My heart nearly stops and I swear my jaw just dropped to the floor. _It's the moment you do or don't, Veronica. Make your choice. Get the courage before he leaves._

Waiting for an answer, Logan finally sighs in what, defeat?, and starts to get up from his chair.

"Come with me." I say confidently for the first time.

"What?" Logan's confused.

"Come with me to Barbados." I finally say in relief, but what I really mean to say is "_I love you"._

A/N: I kinda feel lukewarm about this chapter. For real. Reassure me?


	19. Remember to Feel Real

"Come with me." I say confidently for the first time.

"What?" Logan's confused.

"Come with me to Barbados." I finally say in relief, but what I really mean to say is "_I love you"._

Logan immediately sits down and looks me clear in the eye. "Are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious. I know it's more money out of your pocket but-" I simply say as I tidy up my lunch tray.

"Veronica, you know it's never been about the money." He says genuinely and pauses "And I mean, this is kind of a big thing…you inviting me to help out on a case." He furrows his brow.

"Well, okay, I typically work alone, but so what? I trust you and you already…"

"You trust me?" Logan looks surprised. "Are you sure?"

"I was inherently skeptical about the whole thing…but, I just kept going back to the fact that you're generally a pretty good, respectable guy and that you wouldn't intentionally cheat, especially not on me." I pause and then smirk "Plus there's that whole I love you thing."

Logan's eyes immediately light up and an uncontrollable smile crosses his face. "Was that a confession of your undying love, Mars?"

"What do you think?" I ask with a playful smile. Logan looks pointedly at me and I nod my head in understanding. "Well, for the record, it totally was."

* * *

"You know, if this trip weren't completely business related, it might be construed as a romantic getaway. What do you make out of that?" Logan smirks as he collapses on our hotel bed.

"If we actually buckle down and get this settled, if my calculations are correct, we can possibly fit in at least a little happy, happy fun time." I reply nonchalantly as I sit on the edge of the bed. Before I know it, he's got his arms around my stomach and is tugging me back toward him. "Logan!"

"My animalistic urges can't control themselves. I happen to find you completely sexy when you're jet-lagged." He whispers in my ear.

"You're mental." I joke as I wriggle out of his grasp.

"You love it."

"I do, indeed. But now really isn't the time. A girl's got to set some boundaries." I shrug as I go sit down at my computer.

"You're no fun." Logan groans.

"You're lying. I'm the life of the party. Haven't you heard?" I say sarcastically.

"All work and no play make a very dull Veronica."

"Play comes later." I turn and blow him a kiss, which he catches with a smile.

"Fine." He yawns and tucks himself in. "In the meanwhile, I'm taking a nap. Do not disturb."

* * *

"Why did we settle on this car?" I whine as I have to park out of sight.

"Because A, it was cheap, and B, you were reminded of the Mystery Inc. van."

"It's horrible for surveillance. What was I thinking?"

"You weren't. You were hopped up on Red Bull and who was I to argue with the impossibly correct Veronica Mars?"

I regard him with a dirty look and focus in on a small apartment window across the street.

"Plus, what does it really matter? You've got them."

"Just because I've got them in sight doesn't necessarily mean I've actually got them. I'm supposed to bring them home." Logan opens the passenger door and gets out. I hiss, "What are you doing?"

"Doing _your_ job, apparently." He takes a bow and then strides over to the apartment door.

I see him ring the doorbell and I give a final sigh as I, too, get out of the car.

The door opens and unassuming, Luke walks out and looks over at Logan. "Dude! Logan…what're you doing here, man?"

"Ditching school for a bit of fun, you know." I walk up beside him and Luke's face sets in resolve.

"Veronica." He drawls. "Why am I not surprised? Did my parents send you to find us?" He bites back.

"Watch it, Luke, that's my girl you're talking to." Logan warns and I cautiously place my hand on his arm to calm him down.

"What? You're in on this too, bro?" Ugly betrayal crosses Luke's otherwise handsome features.

"Luke, what is it?" Rosa walks out and surveys the situation. "Hey, you're Veronica Mars." She notes with a slight bit of admiration.

"They came lookin' for us, Rosa." Luke fills her in and she sighs.

"Who hired you?" She asks.

"Your mom. I did it as a favor to Weevil. He really cares about you, you should know that."

"So my parents _didn't_ hire you?" Luke seems almost a little disappointed.

"Regrettably, no, they'd rather everyone think you were off in Jamaica studying. Something about their reputation."

"Of course." Luke scoffs.

"If it's any consolation, your mom's pretty worried."

"Oh trust me, she's not. It's an act." He rolls his eyes. "Come on in." He leads us in. It's nondescript, a gray couch and black plastic chairs. It's almost like a model home.

Logan and I uncomfortably sit down on their couch as they turn to each other. It's mostly a bunch of hushed whispers and finally they sigh.

"So, I'm guessing you know about how my mom got pregnant in high school?" Rosa asks and I simply nod my head. "Like mother, like daughter." As she points at her stomach, she takes a deep intake of breath. "She might seem down to earth and unbiased, but when she found out I was pregnant, she flipped out. She was talking about moving and everything. Girls in the neighborhood get pregnant all the time…sure, it's usually a big deal, but not like this. She only wanted to get out of there because the baby's Luke's, just because he was a 09er. Just like the guy that had knocked her up." Rosa looks as if she's on the brink of tears, and if the circumstances are what she says they are…she has every right to bawl her eyes out.

"And my parents hadn't liked Rosa since the start. Always said she was out to steal our money. And when they found out she was pregnant they thought it was some paternity scam. They even offered her money to 'get rid of it'." Luke shakes his head sadly as he too sits down.

I feel a deep pit in my stomach. _"Get rid of it?"_ Sure, parents in the 09er zip aren't generally known for their extreme morality, but actually offer money for an abortion? It's frightening how far people will go to preserve their supposedly pristine reputations.

I look over at Logan and I can tell he's thinking the same thing. I mean, his household alone: Aaron's affairs and abuse, Lynn's escape into pills and alcohol. They were surprisingly good at covering things up for the public. No matter that it compromised morality and took multitudes of cash to cover up the problems.

I grab his hand in comfort and our fingers interlace.

"You're not screwing with me, right?" I ask cautiously.

Luke shakes his head in seriousness and Rosa simply cries. They're after all only troubled teenagers that got in way over their heads.

"Okay, I won't bring you back." I pause and then mull it over some more. "But if this is a hoax, I won't even hesitate next time." I say seriously and they nod. _Good._

And with that, we make our goodbyes and walk back to the car.

"Veronica, wait!" A voice calls out and I turn around only to find Rosa running toward me with a note in her hand.

"What is it, Rosa?" I ask softly. She simply puts the piece of paper in my hand. It's crinkled and has a few tearstains.

"Give this to my mom?" Rosa asks gently and I nod. "And tell her that I love her."

"And what should I tell Weevil?"

"Tell Eli that it means a lot that he tried, but maybe I didn't really want to be found?" Though she's visibly upset, I swear I can see a weak smile gracing her lips.

* * *

"Veronica!" Logan groans from his position at the headboard of the bed.

"God, could you sound anymore pitiful?" I look back at him and continue to type on my computer. "Boys are so horny." I mutter under my breath.

"What happened to 'happy, happy fun time'?"

"In case you haven't noticed, it's going on right now. My report on the economic situation of this locale is completely entertaining." I say sarcastically.

Logan sighs and takes the chair next to me. "Veronica…"

"What?" I almost flinch.

"What is it?" Logan asks and puts his hand on my shoulder. I shrug it away.

"What is _what_, Logan?" I ask, almost irritated.

"It's _that_, Veronica." He sounds pained. "You won't let me touch you anymore. It's like you're afraid I'm going to hurt you."

"No, it's not that-" I insist, but he doesn't look convinced.

"You _don't_ trust me." His shoulders slump and I look him clean in the eye. "I would never _hurt_ you-"

"Logan, I do." I whisper and take his hand, holding it loosely. "This, this is me _trusting_ you." I insist. "I wouldn't have brought you if I didn't…"

"That still doesn't explain why-"

"Logan, listen to me." I snap. "You know that I'm insecure. You know that it's…_hard_ for me. Baby steps." I finally say with a weak smile.

* * *

"Business on the up and up, Max?" I begin to spin in my office chair.

"Well, no, not really. That's actually why I'm here." He's fidgeting in his seat.

"Someone cornering in on your market?" I frown.

"Well, they probably are now." He says bluntly and I frown. "Look, I have these big file cabinets full of 'study guides' in my apartment and now they're all gone. Someone stole them, Veronica."

"Dude, that sucks."

"Tell me about it." Max shakes his head. "That's my freaking livelihood."

"Well, this should be fairly easy. We just need to find out who else on campus is selling copies of past exams." I pause and look at him skeptically. "You didn't perhaps report this particular theft to the Sheriff's Department, did you?"

"No. I didn't really think they'd understand." Max comments. "Why?"

"My Dad's the new Sheriff, and I'm pretty sure he'd kind of get a kick out of it." I say and notice the unimpressed expression on his face "Not that that's something you'd appreciate." I finally say in embarrassment.

"Yeah, it's cool. You know, if this _weren't my life_, I would totally catch the humor inherent in the situation." Max says dryly.

"So…any known enemies?"

"Nope."

"Is there still some bitterness with the whole, uh, Wendy situation?"

Max blushes. "I, uh, turned 21 last weekend and my friends took me out to some bars and a strip club. Guess who was on the pole that night?" Max purses his lips awkwardly.

"Max, I'm sorry. That must've been…awkward?"

"Yeah it definitely was…especially when my friend decided it was appropriate to tip her. But, really, she'd have no reason to do it. We got that whole debt thing squared off a long time ago."

"Well, I'll definitely look into it. Meanwhile, try and scratch out an honest living?"

"What, delivering pizzas or something?"

"Exactly that. Cho's is hiring and it just so happens that I got him out a jam awhile back, so maybe I can pull some strings."

"Fine." Max replies. "Thanks."

"Okay, well, I'll call you if anything turns up." I lead him out and find that Mac's in the lobby. _Crap. _I forgot she was supposed to come by to pick me up for lunch.

"Hey, Max." Mac offers, her cheeks turning a deep red.

"Hey." He gives her a weak smile and walks out.

"Well, that was sufficiently awkward." I note.

* * *

Coming out of my economics class, I check the perimeter for Logan, only for my eyes to fall on Duncan. _Duncan? What?_

I walk up to him, confused, and state the obvious "You're not my boyfriend."

"Uh, no. I'm not. Logan's got to take some exam, so he told me to go ahead and meet you." Duncan explains, looking flustered.

"Come on then, lunch buddy." I link arms with him jokingly as we stride into the cafeteria. Piz gives me a civil wave from the radio booth and I nod in awkward acknowledgment.

"A friend of yours?"

"Yeah." I pause. "Ex-boyfriend."

"Oh." Duncan gets in line and I fall in behind him.

"So…do you like the campus?" I make small talk.

"Yeah, it's pretty great. I just checked out the housing office and talked to some advisors."

"Cool. How are you and Clara?"

"Uh, fine." He says quietly and then shakes his head and looks back at me. "Honestly? We're really not. She's homesick and always down and I don't think it's really going to work out."

"I'm sorry." I give him an apologetic pat on the back. "Just know that it'll work out the way it's meant to."

"You? Optimistic?" Duncan raises an eyebrow in skepticism.

"I'm trying it out. Trying to get a new outlook on life." I smile and mimic fake glasses in front of my eyes. We continue to make small talk when I hear someone behind me talking.

_"Yeah, totally. Such a badass. Do you remember all that stuff in People a few years ago? I don't know about you, but I like a troubled streak in a boy. Keeps them interesting."_

_"Omigod, like totally. Doesn't he like go here? I thought I heard something about that."_

"_God, Jenny, you're such an idiot. Of course he does, he was my Life Science partner."_

Killian. That little bit-

"_Oh, he was __**that Logan**__?"_

"_And let me tell you, the rumors are true! He's an amazing kisser, totally experienced. He'd be so…I don't know, __**wild**__ if he wasn't tied down to that tight-ass girlfriend of his."_ She sighs and if I'm not mistaken, takes a second to reapply her lip gloss. _Of course._

"_Oh, that Veronica girl? Eugh. She's apparently like some freaking super hero or something. She solved that poor dead girl's murder, right?"_

"_That poor dead girl was Logan's ex-girlfriend too." _I can see Duncan's grip on his lunch tray tighten and I put a calming hand on his arm.

_"Ooh, boyfriend stealer."_

"_I know right? What a slut." _

At that comment, his tray goes flying. Not because I let go, but because I helped him push it. Soon his macaroni and cheese is flying. _Plop!_ It lands right on top of Killian's badly colored roots.

"You little slut!" Killian exclaims as she glares at me.

"Oops." I shrug and then firmly put my hands on my hips.

"He one of your lovers too?" She points an accusing finger at Duncan, who's now picking up his tray and tidying up.

"Leave him out of this."

"Was _he_ in your little sex tape, Veronica Mars? I know all about your little video escapade. I'm pretty sure _everyone_ does." She raises a cruel eyebrow at me and turns to her friends who are now laughing like hyenas.

"Well, apparently I'm not the only one with a 'dirty little secret'. You have one too, don't you Killian?" Her amused expression is quickly wiped off her face.

"You don't know what you're talking about." She says confidently with a hair flip.

"You and ex-boyfriend Chip Diller? Getting all naked up in the Pi Sig house. I heard he was trying to leak it. Might wanna check up on that…" She narrows her eyes. "You don't leave me or Logan alone and I might do the honor." I pick up a CD out of my purse and wave it in the air. "And don't think I won't."

With a huff, she snaps at her friends and they leave the cafeteria.

Once he's thrown the remnants of his tray in the trash bin, Duncan looks at me curiously and asks, "You had a sex tape?"

* * *

Hope that wasn't too disappointing :). And no, I'm not going to have _any_ Duncan/Veronica shippyness in the near futute. So don't worry. LoVe. :)

Review?! 3


	20. Duplicity and Vulnerability

Twirling my spaghetti on my fork, I finally break the awkward silence.

"Let me just make one thing crystal clear, Duncan. I've changed a lot since you left."

"Clearly." He sighs.

"I've had to slough through a bunch of complete _crap_ this last year, and one of the big things was my not-quite sex tape…"

His jaw sets and he looks angry. "Who-?"

"Piz didn't tape it. His and Wallace's dorm was under surveillance. Somebody thought it'd be _nice_ to release it. And we didn't even…you know, get down to business." I say embarrassedly and then my shoulders fall as I see Piz making his way over. "_Great_." I mutter to myself.

"Veronica, are you okay?" Piz immediately takes a seat.

"Yeah." I say in a succinct manner.

"Was it because of Logan?" He assumes and then grapples for an explanation at the sight of my shocked and embarrassed expression. "It just kinda screams Logan, I know I'm going out on a limb here, but-"

"Piz, _please_ don't." I blush furiously, trying to vigorously forget our little closet escapade.

"I just kind of figured you two were back on because you're kind of being evasive and avoid-y and after what happened, I-"

"Just…_stop_." I say simply and gesture to Duncan, who's obviously looking uncomfortable.

"Oh, hey. I'm Piz." He says awkwardly and then offers his hand for a polite handshake.

Duncan nods awkwardly and simply says "I'm Duncan."

At the realization, Piz finally blushes and says "Oh." Oh right, I almost forgot that Wallace felt the need to totally fill Piz in on my past last year, including Lilly's death, and oh yeah, my on-off relationship with Duncan. _Great._

"So, yeah, we're kind of busy. Can we talk later?" I smile at Piz and nod.

"Yeah, sure. You know, I'm always free." He regards us as he begins to walk away.

"Well, he's quite the character." Duncan says, as always understating it.

"Definitely." I reply nervously as Logan slips into an open chair. "Hey."

"This is all very high school." He remarks as he puts down his Biology folder. "Is there a pep rally later?" He asks with a slight smirk.

"The opposite of, actually. I'm very much in the need of a hot bubble bath and a nice big pint of Ben and Jerry's." I reply quietly.

"That bad?"

Duncan and I both nod in response. "Your Life Science partner and I had a _little_ confrontation earlier."

"Did you rip her a new one?" Logan asks expectantly. _He knows me too well._

Duncan laughs nervously and nods at me. "So far as to suggest that I might release her tawdry sex tape in retribution?" I shrug.

"That's taking the high road if I ever saw it." Logan laughs and takes my hand under the table.

* * *

A nice warm-up for an upcoming presumably awkward talk with a former professor is always needed…especially if you have to visit him in jail.

Hence my new love for Pilates and the nice DVD set and mat Mac bought me for Christmas. For a few minutes, you're in control of everything: your body, your thoughts, just everything. Despite being surprisingly exhausting, it's a nice cool down.

Taking a deep breath, I pull my hair back into a ponytail and slip on a jacket.

"You ready to go?" Logan yells from the front room. He's my moral support for the day. Voluntarily, even.

"For sure. One minute!" I run out and slip on my shoes.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Veronica?" He looks me in the eye. "I'm sure you'd rather just go to the beach or something."

"Actually, no, that's _you_. You're the one that's bound on getting pneumonia by surfing during winter." I shake my head and then honestly say, "I may not necessarily be thrilled about going, but I still need to. Do you understand that?"

"I just remember the chills I got before I visited my dad." He shakes his head, his eyes showing emotions of mild disgust and…_regret?_ "I'm just looking out for you, you know." He then gently tucks a stray strand of hair behind my ear.

"You're just looking out for your gas tank. Prices are ridiculous." I joke and then honestly say. "But anyway, thanks. I couldn't do this without you."

"To be honest, you probably could." He shrugs and I give him a knowing smile. "But thanks for the sentiment. That's what really matters anyway, right?"

"I like to think so." With that, we lock up and go out to his car.

After driving countless miles, we're finally there, waiting nervously in the parking lot.

"Are you sure? It's not too late, you know."

"I'm sure." I note confidently and squeeze his hand. "You gonna be okay out here? I'm probably gonna be awhile."

"Nah, it's cool. I've got the radio to keep me company." He smiles and then urges "Go on, we've got dinner reservations for six."

I laugh and finally get out of the car. After a little waiting, I'm finally in to see Professor Landry.

He's haggard, admittedly. I'm not going to sugarcoat it: the man looks rough. We pick up our phones and I give him a nervous smile.

"I have to admit, I was a little surprised when I saw your name on the request form. My own mother doesn't even visit me." He begins jokingly.

"I just thought I should properly thank you for your recommendation." I shrug.

"You deserved it, Veronica. And I've meant everything I've said, you are probably the brightest student I've ever had."

"Speaking of, they didn't stick good Ol' Tim in here, right?" I smirk and raise my eyebrows nervously.

"Are you kidding?" Landry scoffs. "With my record, I'm fairly sure they'd think we'd be pretty explosive. Plus, I don't know if I could really control myself if I ever came into contact with him again."

"It's probably for the best."

"So, I hear you're still doing great things. The new Profiling professor up at Hearst is an old friend of mine and we've been doing some corresponding. I've even read some photocopies of your essays. Good work." He smiles.

"Oh, thanks. What great things am I supposedly doing?" I ask honestly. To be completely truthful, I've gotten good feedback, but no real analysis or in-depth comments. Landry was always really good about that.

"Being ballsy, following your gut. I know this is just a product of the rumor mill, but I heard about your little threat on one of your peers…releasing a sex tape? That was gutsy, Veronica. I'd expect nothing less." He nods in, I don't know, perhaps a sense of pride? I can't quite pinpoint it. "Most people are afraid of consequences, afraid of the day after. I've always admired that about you. You've kind of got this 'other people be damned' attitude. It's a good thing to have in that field of work, keeps you sane."

_Other people be damned?_ Is he implying that I'm selfish? I definitely try not to be, perhaps, maybe, he's just actually referring to my assumed fearlessness. Or at least the front I put on.

"Uh, thanks, I guess." I say uncertainly with a polite smile.

"No, no, don't mistake me. It's a good thing, being self-reliant; people don't take you seriously if you're not confident in what you do. I'm not saying that it's all about being about oneself… it's more like knowing that you can do your best and actually doing it. You put your all into everything, and that's a pretty rare thing." He nods and leans back in his chair.

"Thanks." I smile back, actually feeling oddly comforted.

"So, tell me, how was the program? Everything you'd hoped?"

"It was certainly _interesting_." I offer up with a nervous laugh. "At first it was mostly filing and a little course study. They actually put me out in the field a few times."

"I'm sure you were a wiz at it." He insists.

I shake my head. "I actually wasn't. We busted up a drug ring, and believe me…I've dealt with the criminal element _a lot_, but nothing like that. I was actually a little scared, to be honest."

"Oh. Well, I don't really know what to say about that. " He says apologetically and I nod.

"Oh, it's fine. It was just kind of a harrowing experience. I'm not really-"

Suddenly, I flash back and I'm there again. Scared out of my wits by the men throwing threats out left and right, dodging bullets. It's still so vivid and hard. Fearing for my life is nothing new, but it's always a sharp and harsh concept. I suppose I'm just a little gun-shy. I still haven't even told Logan. The nights I wake up in cold shivers from an especially bad nightmare, I think he just assumes it's from his father or Cassidy _or_ Mercer. Which, okay, admittedly, at least half of the time it is. Not always.

"So you think you're maybe more suited to behind the scenes work?"

"For now, at least." I give him a fighting smile. We continue to talk until the guard says our time is up. We part and I promise another visit soon.

Walking nervously back out to the car, I ponder everything I've been holding back, and tell myself to be honest and up-front. I need to get rid of my inhibitions, most of all with Logan.

"Hey." He smiles as he turns down the radio.

I give him a caring smile and finally say, "I need to tell you something."

* * *

After one of my classes, I stop by Parker's dorm for a little girl talk…and a little help on Max's case.

"So you basically want me to play the ditz?" She laughs, looking at me skeptically.

"I just need someone to go undercover…just someone that's not generally really associated with Max, so it's not that obvious."

"Why should I help _him_ out, again?" She scoffs.

"Do you have something against him?" I ask honestly and she looks me in the eye, as if I'm supposed to immediately pick up on something.

"He was a jerk to Mac. You know that, right?"

"Well, to be honest, you're not directly helping him, you're helping _me_." I say smartly and then curiously ask, "What did he do? She never told me."

"He got really jealous when she started talking to Dick more…they weren't even like talking _talking_. But, apparently, it was totally fine for him to be friends with this totally slutty, nerd girl and talk to her all the time. It was all really screwed up." Parker sighs and then looks me in the eye. "Let me repeat this: I'm helping _you_, not him."

* * *

"Plenty of good times here." Logan muses as he takes a bite of some coffee cake at Java the Hut.

"…and _really_ bad." I joke as I scope the area, waiting for Parker.

"That, too."

"Finally." I mutter as she walks in, talking to a girl from her English class.

I turn on the audio bug and begin to listen, all the while pretending to be checking my email.

"Yeah there's this guy, he totally helped me out of a jam last week."

"That's so awesome!" Parker chirps, every bit the ditzy girl she's meant to portray. "There was this guy recently that was really good, but I don't know, I think he went out of business or something."

"Oh that Max guy? Used him last year. Really thorough."

For a while it continues on like this, until I finally get a name. Fred Delaney.

Max's _friend._ One of the very classy boys that decided a hooker would be a great idea.

Max is _not_ going to be happy.

* * *

After careful consideration, I invite Max back to the office to discuss his case…all the while beckoning Fred back to converse about his potential aid in another "case" of mine.

As Max and I make small talk in my office, Fred nervously knocks on the door, only to be caught off guard by the sight of his "friend".

Max looks between both of us confused and suddenly he sinks in his seat and gives Ol' Fred a very expectant and disappointed look. I get up and cross my arms.

"Uh, yeah, she's, uh, asking for my help me with a case." He shrugs it off, almost convincingly if not for the slight twitch on his lip.

"Why don't we just get down on to the dirty truth, huh?" I go over and pat him on the back and Max looks at us both quizzically. "You're buddy… your old pal, has been celebrating the fruits of your labor. Especially in the busiest season of the year."

Max finally says in an low, hollow voice "Finals."

"Max, it's not what-" He tries to reason.

"What it looks like? I think it's exactly what it looks like. Rumor has it that you have quite the _reefer_ issue. Can't get enough of it." I ham it up, all the while using a mean sarcastic tone. "So much so, that you're willing to commit thievery-"

"Veronica, just stop." Max instructs sternly and my lips clamp shut as Fred continues to plead.

"Dude, I'll return it…and I mean, you've got copies…everything's still in there…I'm so-"

"Stupid? Yes. An asshole? Yes. Out of my life? _Yes._ You give me my file cabinets back fully stocked or I'll make sure you get paid a visit by the local Sheriff." Mac darts me a thankful look as he continues to berate his former friend.

"They'll be back by four." His friend says ashamedly as he stalks out of the office.

Max collapses back into his chair and draws a long, deep sigh.

"There wasn't any sign of forced entry at your place, Max. Did he have a key?" I ask hesitantly.

"I never gave him one. But I slept off a hangover at his dorm on my 21st…I guess he stole must have stolen my keys and copied the one to the apartment." He shakes his head in exasperation and then mutters underneath his breath "People these days."

"I'm sorry, Max." I reply simply and then note. "And please tell me if he doesn't make good on his promise. I can make my father's visit as discreet as possible…without losing any of the original punch." I smirk playfully.

* * *

There's for sure more to come! Plus, a surprise next chapter, albeit a small one. :)

Feedback is always very appreciated :D


	21. Sober

After a morning class I head back to the apartment for a quick nap.

Checking my apartment mail, I find a bright pink envelope. Surprised, I immediately open it up and carefully read its contents: a stiff white card with spidery black writing.

_You're invited!_

_You, _Veronica Mars_ (plus one), are invited to celebrate the engagement of Casey Gant and Parker Lee on the 22__nd__ of March. Dress casually. Arrive promptly at the Gant Estate at 7:30 PM to fully enjoy the night's festivities! Please RSVP._

**What? Parker and Casey engaged? **

Needless to say, I'm slightly shocked. There had been no sign the last time I saw Parker: no ring, no indications of impending matrimony. Furthermore, if she had neglected to tell me, why hadn't Mac?

What an anomaly.

I immediately dial up Logan and after a few rings, he lazily answers.

"Have you checked your mail today?"

"Uh, no, I'm barely even awake." He mutters. _Barely awake, Logan?_ It's two in the afternoon.

"Well, okay, spoiler alert. We know an engaged couple now."

"Is it Duncan and Clara?" Logan asks logically. Typically, I'd agree with that assumption. But with my latent knowledge of trouble in that sector of paradise, the choice is less predictable.

"No. Parker and Casey." I insist, almost disbelievingly. After a few seconds of awkward silence, I finally say "Are you still with me here?"

"Yeah." Logan echoes.

"Startling, huh?" I ask, again awaiting an answer.

"Nah, not so much."

"What?" I'm caught off guard, to say the least.

"They're head over heels. And, they're _them_. It was bound to happen sooner or later." He says slowly…and all too logically.

"Oh." I reply succinctly. "So…" I trail off awkwardly.

"Look, marriage isn't for everyone, I know that." He sighs and I tell he's furrowing his brow in deliberation on the other side. "But, it is for some people. Just not us…yet."

"Yeah." I say quietly in agreement.

"So, there's my spiel on romance for today." I can practically see his smirk. "You're coming over later, right?"

"Oh yeah." I reply in a low, sultry voice and I can hear his airy chuckle.

"See you then."

"You bet." I tease back.

"I love you."

"Love you too." I reply sincerely and press end with confidence.

* * *

As soon as I enter Mars Investigations later, I see Weevil gesturing to the closed office door quietly.

"What is it?" I whisper, coming up next to him.

"You've got clients."

"No duh!" I say sarcastically and then shake my head. "_Who_ is it?"

"Casey Gant's rents." Weevil says pointedly.

"What?!" I ask, completely blown away.

"Apparently, they need your mad Mars P.I. skills." Weevil shrugs with his trademark confident ease, apparently finding the situation hilarious.

I hit his shoulder in playful defense and then step into the office.

I smoothly go over to my side of the desk as the Gants impatiently sit at the other.

"Can I help you?" I ask cheerily.

"We need to look into our son's fiancé, make sure there's nothing _unexpected_." Mrs. Gant raises her eyebrows.

"I have to stop you right there…I can't take this case." I reply seriously.

"Why not?" Mr. Gant frowns. "We're more than happy to include a bonus."

"It's not the money…I'm friends with both Casey and Parker. Parker's a _good _person. And if you can't see that your son's in love with her, you have to be blind. I can refer you to somebody else if you don't believe me." I cross my arms.

"Are you sure? I mean-" Mrs. Gant continues to plead.

"I think we're done here. My assistant can help you find other detectives in the area if you wish." I say simply and flippantly wave them out. Weevil glares back at me as the Gants assail him with questions.

I can't believe the nerve: the Gants actually asking me to check into Parker's possible indiscretions. I could understand it, possibly, before her rape …she seemed a bit _over-confident_, to say the least. But now, she's changed her ways and she's different. There's nothing about her in anyway amiss.

Not really feeling the obligation of client confidentiality, I dial up Casey and let him know. Obviously unhappy, he at least accepts the notion of his parent's distrust.

And for now, my conscience is clear.

* * *

Relaxing from a week that's been far too long, I soak in the tub, bubble bath and all. My mind is running: engagements, moving in with people, everything…It's all so grown up.

Not that I necessarily have a problem with the whole adulthood thing, it's just so finite. Things can only get harder than they already are. I can't wait to get out into the world, make something of myself…but still, a tiny piece of me still wants to go hang out with my dad and be coddled and teased like I'm a little kid. A little bit sensitive for a badass P.I., right? You know, it's been said I'm a marshmallow, a _twinkie_…

My phones buzzes and I pick it up, every bit feeling like a girl on Sex and the City.

"Hello?" I ask in a low, sultry voice, expecting Logan. Might as well play the part.

"Hey, daughter of mine, what're you doing for dinner tonight?" Dad blares in and I immediately blush.

"Um…having Hamburger Helper. Why are you asking, Daddio?" I make a quick save.

"I just made some Lasagna and the portion size is far too much for me. Want to take some off my plate?" He puns and I roll my eyes. It's such a blatantly transparent ploy to get me to come visit. As if I'm not over there almost every other day anyway.

"You had me at Lasagna." I joke and I can hear his airy chuckle. "Give me fifteen minutes." I say as I get out of the tub.

"Don't forget your elastic pants." He notes simply and hangs up.

I go on over after a while and we're having a gay old time until the phone rings unexpectedly. My dad gives me a rare smirk and picks up the phone, motioning at me that he needs to leave the room and take it privately. I wolf-whistle behind him as the blush creeps up on his cheeks. _A lady friend perhaps? Ow Ow. _

I continue to eat my lasagna and casually text Logan as I watch the news. The crime rate has reportedly gone down from the momentary spike it had during Vinnie Van Lowe's "reign". I'm relieved…to say the very least.

After oh, twenty minutes or so, my dad returns and puts the phone back in its cradle.

"Who was that?" I ask playfully, getting a forkful of Caesar salad of _his_ plate.

"Eh, no one. Don't worry your pretty little head." He kisses me on the forehead.

_Yeah…right. _Like I'm not going to investigate! I'm a Mars remember? Just because I don't live here anymore doesn't mean I've lost my instinct and investigative obsession.

As if.

"Excuse me a moment." He says politely and heads for the bathroom, darting me an almost challenging look. _Dang._ He knows me too well.

I almost immediately pick up the phone and shuffle through the caller I.D.

Alicia Fennell. _Oh, Wallace is going to just __**love**__ this._

I smirk to myself and place the phone back…and just in the nick of time too…just as Dad happens to stride back in and pour himself a Diet Coke.

My own phone rings and I look at the caller I.D. quizzically. _The hospital?_

"Hello?" I ask curiously.

"Is this Veronica Mars?" The operator asks in a monotone voice.

"Yes? Is there something the matter?"

"Ms. Mars, you're an emergency contact for one Lianne Mars. Can you confirm?"

"Yes…" I trail off almost nervously. My father gives me a strange look and I shake my head, as if to reassure him.

"She's been involved in an accident with a drunk driver."

Oh, the irony.

* * *

"_No, Lilly! I don't like him!" I insisted._

_"What is there not to like, Veronica Mars?"_

"_He's just…Dick. Ugh." I'd said disgustedly._

"_What? As if Donut's ever going to clue in. You need a backup…a boy there for nothing else but his looks and some simple conversation. It should at least help Duncan see what's right in front of him."_

"_Huh? Lilly, is that what Logan is for you?" _

_She simply giggled. "No. Logan's also there for his superior make out skills…but now's not the time for me to dish on __**those**__." I swear I could almost have heard her blush._

"_My final answer is no. Dick is just…__**no**__." I finally sighed and heard some rustling and doors slamming. "I've uh, got to go, Lil. I'll see you tomorrow."_

"_Okay, babe. Nite!" She hung up and I hurriedly got my shoes on._

_I scrambled outside just in time to find my mom fumbling for her keys and reeking of alcohol. Where was my dad? On patrol or something?_

"_Mom, no." I tried to take the keys and she snatched them back, holding them at arm's length way above her head, way out of my reach. "Mom, don't do this." I nearly pleaded._

"_I need to go to the store-"_

"_Not now. No. Let me drive." I sighed…I barely had my permit._

"_You'd get caught, Veronica-…you're not legal." She hiccupped._

"_And neither are you right now…just give me the keys." I begged. However, lucky for me, as she tried to put the keys in the lock of the car, they clattered to the ground. I managed to pick them up and led her inside._

I'm sitting at her bedside as she sleeps in the hospital. She got of pretty easy… sort of. She's currently unconscious, but expected to get better within the day. She's only has some minor whiplash and a broken sternum. She could've gotten off much worse…and thankfully she didn't.

"We've got more flowers for Mrs. Mars." The nurse brings them in and puts them on the table.

"Thank you." I reply politely and help her arrange them. Once she leaves, I scan all the condolence cards: one from her boss, one from me, one from, surprisingly, my dad, one from her hair lady, and one a little less surprising.

_Lianne,_

_Get well. Here's hoping for a full recovery._

_Always, _

_Jake._

Sure, it's not exactly an admission of his undying love…but it certainly doesn't need to be here when she wakes up. I rip up the card into miniscule shreds and place it in the wastebasket.

My phone rings out and I quickly silence it.

_You doing okay?_

A text from Logan. He's notified all of my teachers of the situation and gotten me takeout. Now, if that's not love…then I don't know what is.

_Fine. No worries._ I reply.

* * *

I finally give bedside watch a rest and Logan and I attend Parker and Casey's engagement party.

I squeeze his hand and smile up at him as we walk up the drive. Once we enter the Gant manse, I immediately get disapproving looks from of the Gant parents. I flash them my invitation and suddenly it's all smiles (fake ones of course, but _smiles_ nonetheless).

Once we enter the party itself…it feels like I'm back in high school. Since Parker's from Denver…obviously almost none of her hometown friends are here. It's mostly Neptune HS alumni and maybe a few fellow Hearst students. Mostly 09ers. _Of course._

I feel like I'm in a game of I Spy with myself. Look! There's Carrie Bishop hanging off John Enbom! Look! Madison's drooling over some ridiculously rich bachelor!

It's exactly like high school. Except this time, instead of blatant disgusted stares at Logan's and my intertwined fingers, it's just a flicker of recognition and almost immediate ignorance. And honestly…I really don't mind that much.

Duncan (sans Clara?) is in the corner being chatted up by the single and desperate faction of former 09er girls, which unsurprisingly includes Shelley Pomeroy.

After about twenty of minutes of pure _merriment_…Logan's phone rings and he curiously leaves the room with a simple "I need to take this" excuse. From his expression, though, I know it's serious.

I begin a conversation with Wallace…first about the weather and then, with a not very smooth segue, about our parent's apparently newly rekindled relationship.

"And…_damn_, here I was thinking she was still dating that guy, Steve, from program development at Kane Software." Wallace jokingly chuckles "Shucks…I thought he might score me some new stuff for my computer…" He gives a playful snap, a maraschino cherry to top his sarcasm sundae.

"Oh Wallace, our bunk beds are sooner to come in our future than previously imagined. What do you say, Little Bro?" I joke and give him a heartfelt noogie as Mac comes up, obviously displeased.

"Not cool, Superfly. Not cool. Never mess with the 'fro!" Wallace smoothes his all-important hair out and smiles back at me.

"What's up, Mac Attack?" I ask, hoping to bring a smile to her now morose face.

"Dick and I are 'on a break'," She quotes furiously and then continues ", and the first sight I see when I show up tonight is him all over some trashy blonde." She grumbles and I pat her back, giving my condolences.

"He's obviously trying to make you jealous. You have to remember something, Mac. Trashy blondes are all Dick knows. They were his bread and butter for like 5 years. I mean, look at Madison. Prime example." I cringe.

"Are you sure?" She asks self-consciously.

"Just don't let it get to you. Be a ray of frak-ing sunshine and make it astronomically clear that he's not getting to you…just don't get all down and dirty in the process." I caution her. "I don't like my Mac all self-important and trashy."

"Gotcha, chief." She nods with a small smile and shuffles off.

After awhile, as most of the guests vacate and time marches on and on…I still can't find Logan. That slightly bothers me. Just a teensy bit.

I ask around, and after a few very (I'm sure intentional) unsuccessful leads, I finally find him on the Gants back porch, sitting alone.

He looks disbelieving. I can tell immediately that something's wrong.

"What is it, Logan?" I ask softly, trying to not agitate him any more than needed.

"It's, it's…Gena. She's dead, Veronica." He drops his phone and it hollowly falls onto the concrete steps.

"Oh, Logan."

* * *

Who's Gena, you ask? Gena Rauccio was Logan's first cousin on his mother's side. She was also a model for Vogue and miscellaneous other magazines.

She looked like Lynn did prior to the facelift and lip plump surgeries. While Trina was off shooting Nicole Richie with a BB gun and practicing her mediocre acting skills, Gena stepped in as Logan's older sister. She was the one who watched him as his parents gallivanted about and she was the one who made sure he didn't kill himself the first time he got wasted. She was just so cool, and not because she drank or did drugs (because she didn't), but because she was interesting. She was Lilly's idol, and nearly mine, being the little tweeners we were. But when Logan was fourteen, some obscure family feud occurred and Gena never came over anymore.

Logan certainly loved her and even if they've lost track of each other, this blow is hitting him as bad as it would have when we were younger.

It's not like he's been crying uncontrollably or anything…it's worse than that, he's quiet and bitter and it's almost unbearable to see him this way.

For once, I'm the one taking care of him. Making his dinner, making the calls to his teachers, picking up makeup work, making sure he doesn't drink his weight in alcohol…

I can't let it be the way it was after Lilly. I can't let him lock himself up in his room and stay in there for days, drinking until he passes out. I can't let him beat himself up over what it is he thinks he might've done to cause it.

And I can't help but see the doubt in his eyes. Gena supposedly dove off her balcony in a suicide attempt. From the 5th story of her _fancy schmancy_ apartment building, no less.

When Logan does speak, he's protesting the ludicrous idea that Gena would ever resort to suicide. I too, have to admit, that Gena had a lot to live for. From what I'd heard, she had a very loving immediate family. She was successful and beautiful and smart, not to mention continually optimistic. Yeah, it doesn't make sense that she'd kill herself…but can I indulge Logan's idea that she didn't actually kill herself but was murdered instead? Can I, yet again, let him hold out hope only to have it dashed to the ground?

He hasn't really even brought up that kind of notion to me, but I can tell it's there, bouncing around in his head… He's a vengeful kind of guy. He doesn't really fully let things go. If it actually had been found out that Gena was murdered, he would probably do anything to find the perpetrator. Find and probably _at least_ cripple the perpetrator.

I can't let that happen. I can't let him lose himself. I can't let myself lose him.

_I just can't._

after a long hiatus, I'm back. Reviews? _Por favor_ :-)


	22. Damaged

My mom's awake. Dick's on "Logan watch" while I go visit her and help her get ready to come home. She's going to stay in my guest room for a while instead of living out of the Camelot. Even with a moderately well paying desk job, the daily cost of room rental's getting to be a bit too costly.

She's short of breath and I let her sleep in my bed while I start to set up her room. Once I've got everything set up in an orderly fashion, I survey my handiwork. Neat and tidy. All of her picture frames have miscellaneous pictures from my childhood in them. One of us at the circus, getting ready for my first formal, visiting my grandmother…It's a little bit touching, to be honest.

I check on her again and then decide to make my way over to Logan's.

Dick answers the door and he looks utterly bored.

"Is he okay?" I ask quietly.

"More than okay, I'd say." Dick shrugs "He's been working on his book for the last hour."

"Oh." I reply simply and tell him he can go onto his hot date. He's been dating more and more sluts since the Gant party. At said party, he saw Mac talking to a TA from Hearst. A biomedical engineering major who happens to fill out a pair of pants _very_ well and has a disturbingly uncanny resemblance to Christian Bale. I suppose he's trying to dull his pain and feelings of inadequacy.

I go into Logan's room to find him missing. Then I hear the shower start and I sigh in relief.

There's a crumpled up ball of paper on the floor and I pick it up in curiosity. I unfurl it and come to find that it's part of Logan's manuscript, probably a rough draft…

"_I might have been young, but I certainly wasn't stupid. I could hear the shouting, the raised voices, the anger… Something had happened in the pool house when my cousin, Gena, had gone to put up the pool rafts, that much, I was sure. Forget the shouting, I could see it on her face when she left. She looked defeated and almost violated. I'd seen that cool smirk on Aaron's face too many times. Nothing good could have happened. Not for Gena. No wonder her parents were outraged. No wonder my mom left to stay with a friend for two weeks."_

I read and reread it several times and slowly crumple it back up, depositing it back in its original place. The shower stops and Logan comes back in the room, clad in only a pale green towel.

"Hey, you're here." He notes simply with a weak smile.

"Of course I'm here." I smile back.

* * *

In the morning, mid-cuddle, _actually_, there's a loud knock on the door.

Logan rubs his eyes and groans.

"Shh. I'll get it." I ruffle his hair gently and cautiously get up. I'm clad simply in a tank top and plaid pajamas.

I go to the door and open it to find a UPS guy. _Hm, I thought all the packages went through the front desk. **Weird.**_

"I'll sign for it." I offer lamely, and that I do.

The messenger bids me adieu, and once I'm back inside the suite, I take a peek at the return address. Shannon and Andrew Rauccio. Gena's parents.

"Logan, there's a package here for you." I gently shake his shoulder...and then add very hesitantly. "From Gena's parents."

He springs up in bed and reaches into his night table for his Swiss army knife.

He then rapidly cuts open the box and picks up a letter from beneath miscellaneous Styrofoam pellets.

"_Logan,_

_We missed you at the funeral. We had hoped you would show. Here are some of Gena's personal effects that we figured she would wish you to have. _

_With love,_

_Aunt Shannon"_

I watch nervously as Logan rummages through the box. His eyes flicker with interest as he picks up a keychain. It's a plastic Ron Jon surf shop keychain. There's only one key attached to it.

"What-?" I ask, utterly confused.

"I used to collect keys when I was younger. To the gardener's golf cart, Trina's diary, the liquor cabinet…Gena knew." He offers up a weak nostalgic smile.

"What is it a key to, do you think?" I reluctantly finger the grooves on it. It's pretty generic…

"Her apartment is my only guess."

"Oh." I say quietly and knead my hands together. I know what's coming and I can't do a thing to stop it.

"Veronica?" He asks unwaveringly as he avoids my eye contact and continues to look through pictures and mementos.

"Yeah?" I whisper, nervous for his impending question.

He clears his throat and then asks, "It must be some kind of sign, right? Like she wants us to go to her apartment?"

_Fabulous. _

* * *

After sweet-talking the doorman, we're into one of the must luxurious apartment complexes in Los Angeles. It's all expensive carpet and gold handrails. The homestead of the Los Angeles Glitterati.

Logan's completely unfazed, but, of course, the only reason is that he's accustomed to this sort of set-up. The life of the ŭber-rich and famous. You might expect that I'd be used to this by now, having been surrounded by the privileged few for much of my life. That would be a no. At heart, I'm still the girl that enjoys the simpler things in life.

We're finally in front of Gena's door and are just about to slip the key in its slot when we're interrupted by a frenzied yell.

"Is that you, Spencer? You need to leave, I mean it-!" An older woman screeches as she runs in our direction.

We hold up our hands in an implied plea of innocence.

"Oh, you're not Spencer." The woman says simply to Logan, almost disappointed. Her shoddy little nametag denotes that her rightful name is Lois. "Shame! I thought I could bust him for trespassing."

"He must be quite the character. You trying to run him out and all…" Logan says, an amused smile finally hitting his lips. _God, I've really missed that smile._

"I'm just tired of seeing him skulk around the apartment…the piece of scum."

"Did he know-?" Logan asks quietly, the smile fading quickly.

"Gena? Yeah, he was her worthless, waste of a boyfriend." Lois shakes her head "Or ex – I was never really sure. He was always coming round, knocking on her door, begging her to take him back." She finally squints at Logan and points at his face "You. You're not Spencer, but you do look _very_ familiar."

"Ma'am, are you sure? He gets that a lot." I reply defensively with a slightly nervous laugh. Logan certainly doesn't need to sign any autographs or be forced to recap his father's pure jackass-ish-ness yet again.

She taps her head and then finally snaps her fingers in realization. "Oh! I remember!" She laughs. "You're the cousin. She had a picture of the two of you on her coffee table. At a water park or something…"

Logan laughs hesitantly in response. "Oh, yeah, that must be the one."

"Ah, she loved it." She smiles nostalgically then snaps back into real-time "Well, it was nice talking to the two of you." She shakes both our hands. "Gotta get back to work. These halls don't clean themselves." She smiles and walks off.

We finally enter the apartment. It's utterly and completely empty, … save a box lying in the middle of the floor. While Logan takes the air on the balcony and morbidly looks down at the street, I rummage through the box. A bunch of pictures and a ratty old t-shirt, and, surprisingly, an address book. Must be stuff the Rauccios initially missed when they moved her stuff out.

I turn over an old picture and read the caption with interest.

"_Me and Spence at the club_". Upon further inspection, I find out from a sign in background of the picture that they were at a club called La Vida, "The Life" in Spanish.

We shuffle through Gena's address book and finally land on Spencer Prescott. According to a quick background check, he plays the saxophone in a jazz club and happens to have extremely dire financial issues. As well as a few minor run-ins with the law: a parking violation, a speeding ticket…_assault?!_

* * *

It's about 2:30 in the morning when I wake to incessant barking.

_Memo to self: Cancel beauty sleep._

Back-up's staying with me while Dad's at the office. He's been pretty busy with a murder case. Some socialite beaten and drowned in her own Jacuzzi. Pretty tawdry stuff. Murder goes upscale in the 09er zip.

I get up, rubbing my eyes lazily.

"What is it, boy?" I groan and see him aiming his fury at my apartment door.

_Great. _Company_?_

I finally settle him down and take a look through the peephole for myself. A very haggard Duncan looks back.

I take in a deep breath and slowly open the door.

"What are you doing here?" I ask calmly as he fumbles in. He's reeking of alcohol. Duncan drunk is never, _ever_ a good thing.

"She left! Clara left! I can't believe…she'd-" He rants and I quickly close the door.

I bring my finger to my mouth "Shh! Slow down. I can't underst-"

"Said even though she loved me she couldn't-" He ruffles his hair and his eyes squint in frustration. "Said I was still stuck on you, that I couldn't-"

"Duncan, stop!" I exclaim and his expression falls.

"Look, I should've never left. You're so good, Veronica, I-" He comes closer and I see _that look_ in his eyes. _Well, Crap._

He lifts his arms and put this hands on my shoulders tremblingly. I push them down. "Duncan, we just can't, okay?"

"And why not? I love you and I know you love me." He insists, tears rising in his eyes.

"Not anymore. Not in that way."

"Why not?" He's almost pleading.

"I'm with Logan. _I love Logan_." I insist in a harsh tone. "I can't be with you, can't you see that?!" I practically shout and he reels back, as if heartbroken.

He doesn't reply. He just simply slumps down onto my couch and heaves a big sigh.

"Duncan?" He doesn't answer or give any sign of recognition. He pulls the fleece throw from the back of my couch and lies down and covers himself with it.

"Duncan?" No reply. Again.

Finally, I give up and go back to my own bed. Weary and terribly worried, I finally slip into a fitful sleep.

In the morning, feeling more empathetic, I get up and make some pancakes. Duncan is apparently making full use of my shower. He finally gets out and comes out, dressed, his hair still sopping wet.

"Hey! How about some smiley face pancakes? I know you love them." I smile and offer him a plate, a sort of symbolic peace offering.

"No thanks." He says in a low voice.

"Are you sure?" I furrow my brow.

"Yeah. I'm sure." He straightens his jacket and makes his way to my door. I think he's about to leave when I finally hear a light "Veronica?"

"Yeah, Duncan?" I ask waveringly.

"Don't tell Logan about this, okay?"

* * *

yay! update! I thrive on reviews so the more encouragement and prompts I get, the more updates you receive!! :)

and I hope that last part squashed any speculations anyone have about any Duncan and Veronica love. Sorry DuVe lovers!!


	23. I Will Possess Your Heart

"Where's Logan?" Mac asks nervously as I skim my email.

"He said he was on his way out, oh-" I flippantly check my watch " – about thirty minutes ago."

"Isn't the Grande only like ten minutes away?"

A crisp knock interrupts our conversation.

"That must be my man!" I exclaim romantically and Mac's TA beau, Kyle, attempts a smirk…awkwardly.

I answer the door and find an unexpected surprise: _Dick_.

Logan waves apologetically from behind as Dick barrels in. He actually says an "excuse me". _How very uncharacteristically polite of him_. Frankly, I'm a bit shocked.

Mac, mirroring my expression, halts in the middle of my living room.

Kyle, on the other hand, is steaming. Which, _hello_, is at least a teensy bit understandable. There's nothing like an admittedly good looking ex-boyfriend to harsh your mellow.

"Dick-" Mac finally sputters, "What are you-? You can't be here…" She shakes her head and then finally crosses her arms in defiance. "You! You need to leave! Really, just go-"

"Mackie." Dick smiles calmly and places his hands on her shoulders. "Just stop."

"But-"

"Look, Mac, I may not always…" He looks her deep in the eye and then says gently "_understand_ you, but what I do understand, is that – is that I love you."

Mac's jaw drops and her eyes glitter.

Worse than Beav-

__

Cassidy.

Oh dear. That's very, very… **_good_?!**

Mac grasps for words as Kyle simply fidgets uncomfortably on my couch.

"You stopped talking for once." Dick laughs.

"Yeah." She smiles "I guess I did."

"You want to, uh, go into the hall?"

Mac silently nods, every bit the blushing romantic. She shoots me a pointed glance as they sashay out the door.

Kyle, on the other hand, practically runs out and Logan gives me a surprised expression.

"Ha. Exactly." I giggle and collapse on the couch.

Logan similarly falls into my new love seat. We laugh in shock for another few moments and then an odd silence falls over us.

"So, uh," Logan pauses "A funny thing happened on the way to the forum."

"What? Dick explained his scheme to knock Mac off her feet in a romantic fashion?"

"No. Duncan felt the need to confess." Logan uncomfortably looks down at his lap.

"Oh." I say awkwardly.

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"He told me not to." I decisively reply.

"So…of course, you had to oblige." He retorts with a slight accusatory tone.

The heat involuntarily rises in my cheeks. "And what would you have done with that information, Logan?" I pause and knot my hands. "Beat him to a pulp, have a stern talk about his intentions?!"

"No. No." He adds honestly. "I just wish you would've told me." He then moves next to me and puts his arm cozily around my shoulder.

"I'm sorry." I kiss his cheek apologetically. "If it helps, I refused his advances. He was _very_ intoxicated and I was _very_ embarrassed."

"Understandably." He nods and shuffles so my head can fit comfortably on his shoulder.

"So how about that movie?" God love him.

* * *

"Veronica Mars. Wake your sleepy ass up."

Lilly? What?

I open my eyes to see Lilly bouncing at the end of my bed impatiently. This isn't a flashback, it's like a mirage. It's too realistic, too lifelike. She's even wearing her favorite pajamas. The ones with the watermelons on them, with the tiny little short shorts.

"Hate to be all Grandma, Lil', but you don't call, you don't write…" I fold my arms and glare.

"Ugh. Get over it. I've been busy." She waves it off.

"Right." I scoff and gesture for her to continue.

"Look, you know why I'm here, so just stop being miss 20 year old drama queen. Yeah, you're so _superior_ because you're in college or whatever, but tell you what, honey, I'm in heaven, that's like a gazillion times much bett-"

"Get on with it, Lilly. What's your cryptic prediction or whatever?"

"No cryptic. That's so like three years ago, Veronica. I'm more into the subtle urging thing now."

"I haven't seen any of that technique yet."

"Well okay. Fine. I thought Gena was like super cool. So just find her killer already. Person must be like totally psycho. To murder such an awesome person, I mean she was just like…chic and like, my hero!"

"So it definitely wasn't a suicide?" I ask nervously.

"I said killer, didn't I? Geez, I swear, you're getting a little slow on the uptake."

"I just can't afford to make any mistakes…I can't let Logan-"

"Logan. Logan. Logan." She rolls her eyes. "Is he all you worry about these days?"

"He kind of is my boyfriend." I state the obvious.

"Chicks over dicks, Veronica." She rolls her eyes as if it was common knowledge.

"Lilly-"

"Okay, random tangent. Anyway, you get the point, right? It's kind of important."

"Yes. I get it." I reply simply with a nod and a weak smile.

"I miss you, V." She says quietly and I can tell it's almost over, slipping away, fading...

"I miss you too, Lilly." I say softly back, fighting back the tears. "Always will."

As if on cue, my alarm clock wakes me from my dream. The glaring bright letters replace Lilly's shining face and I can feel a lone tear falling down my cheek.

* * *

"God, this must be the sign of the apocalypse." I finger the material lightly.

"Right there with you, Veronica." Mac groans and eyes the dress. It's a big lavender mess just simply covered in ruffles and bows.

"Us? Bridesmaids? Surely there must be some mista-"

"Hello, ladies!" Parker bounces into the room. "Don't you just love them?"

"If by love, you mean ha-"

"Of course, Parker." I give Mac a bewildered look "They're...lovely." Mac exclaims through the a biting smile and darts me a look of warning.

If her eyes had the potential to be deadly, we'd have a surefire massacre on our hands.

"And you know...the best thing is that after the wedding, you can just shorten it and wear it again!" Parker smiles dreamily, still apparently in the ever-so-blinding new engagement haze.

"You know." I add politely "I do have shoes to match."

* * *

"It's not _so_ bad." My mother peers at my reflection.

"It has..._ruffles_." I sputter.

"Oh, honey..." She grasps for something to say "Just remember it's her day and she's the focus."

Could mother dearest perhaps be referring to that theory that the bride(-zilla) dresses her bridesmaids in the most hideous creations known to man just to make herself seem the most desirable? Thank you, Parker. I _so_ appreciate your choice to succumb to your insecurities.

Okay, out of selfish-Veronica mode now. It's just a dress. Quit obsessing.

* * *

"Personally...I find it kind of _sexy_." Logan nuzzles my neck.

"You would." I laugh as I put it back up in the closet.

His arms wrap around my waist and I can feel his hot breath dancing on my neck.

"But, then again..." He trails off dramatically. "I think you'd look gorgeous in just about everything."

"You're just saying that 'cause you're warm for my form." I tease childishly and turn back around to face him.

"No." He replies.

"Let me get this straight, you're _not_ attracted to me?" I raise my eyebrows in confusion.

"No, no..." He huffs and then sighs "It's more than that, if you must know."

"Explain?" I place a simple peck on his cheek.

"You should already know." He replies back, a bright smile lifting at the corners of his mouth. "You know I'm...not to be cliché or anything, but truly, madly, deeply in love with you."

"Ditto." I breathe out softly and go in for the kiss.

He draws back and raises his eyebrow back at me. "Ditto?" He chuckles goodheartedly. "I bare my soul...and all you've got is 'ditto'?"

I bite my lip, choking back a tiny laugh. "You know I'm not a romantic, to say the least. But, I do love you. And it might've taken me forever to say it before, but ever since I said it the first time, just know I've wanted to tell you every moment. So, here I am, vulnerable...all yours."

At that, we intertwine our fingers and finally meet for a kiss.

* * *

On the way to my Profiling class, I spot Duncan wandering aimlessly in the quad.

__

Hello, potential awkwardness.

I finally grasp a little courage and walk over.

"You look a little lost."

"I was kind of misplaced by my tour group in the gift shop."

"Ah." We begin to walk in the direction of my class "Well, you've found yourself in a pretty integral part of campus. The quad is a nice starting point."

"I guess it is...plus," He then adds with a smile "I have one hell of a tour guide."

"That you do." I laugh unwillingly.

After an awkward bit of silence, he finally speaks up.

"Look Veronica, I'm sorry about-"

"Hey, Duncan." I say defensively. "Don't worry about it. I'm a big girl... and you were..._wasted_. It's kind of a memory I'm trying to repress." I let out an accidental choking laugh.

He nods acceptingly and then points toward the admissions office. "Well, uh, this is my stop. I'll see you later."

Well, that was _fun_.

* * *

After taking a sizeable amount of time for Logan's so-called recovery, our hunt for Spencer Prescott begins...

For a few minutes, we simply sit across the street from Spencer's apartment complex, waiting for him to leave for his nightly gig at The Cat's Pajamas, an extremely cheesy jazz club that keeps him on staff.

As I open my door to follow him on foot, Logan pipes up "Let me do it."

"What?!" I come back in and close the door swiftly. "You can't be serious, Logan. You completely lack sneakiness."

"That may be true..." He concedes and then firmly continues "but think about it, Veronica. This guy's got a criminal record, he's assaulted women before, probably assaulted Gena..." He trails off, closing his eyes. He finally gains his composure and continues, "good ol' Spence gets wise and corners you... I'm at least packing some guns." He exposes his bicep and I hit him playfully back.

"Gotta love brute force on a man." I tease. After a few minutes, he's GPS enabled and ready to go. He gives me a brief salute and finally gets out.

After a good hour of tracking a blip on a radar screen and listening to my iPod, Logan shows back up and proceeds to fill me in.

"Prescott made a stop at Number 312 at the Elite apartments. Which happens to be directly across from Gena's."

"...and the plot thickens..."

"Being the supreme sleuth I am, I found out the owner's name."

"Which is?"

"Milo Braddick."

"And how did you figure that out?"

"I read the nameplate on his door." He smirks.

"Ah." I offer up a weak laugh.

After a cursory internet check, we find out Milo Braddick is an amateur director and camera man...and unsurprisingly works in adult films. Go figure.

So is Milo's apartment being directly across the street from Gena's simply a coincidence? Or is it intentional?

* * *

**A/N**: Sorry it took like forever for me to update. I've had serious writer's block and really have been too busy to write without ideas. But, hoped you enjoyed it. Hopefully, I can delve into Gena's case next chapter and wrap it up and get on to Casey's and Parker's wedding festivities! Reviews aid my writing and abet my addiction!! :D


	24. Somebody's Watching Me

Logan and I have both been on edge since our semi-revelation. We've both been occupied with school and background checking. Tonight's practically his only "night off". It's Casey's bachelor party. A bit early, admittedly, but it's been adjusted to fit with Neptune's very busy social season. The wedding is actually in mid-June.

After a long stressful day, I call him up. "Ready for your night of debauchery?"

"Well…technically…it's really Casey's." He pauses "But, rest assured, my sweet, I'll be sure to squeeze in at least a little naughty fun." He teases.

"Ok, all I ask is that I not find stripper's underwear in your car or in the suite…" I jokingly trail off. "And oh, you know, the obvious…"

"That when I stick the $20 in her g-string that I only think of you?"

"Exactly." I giggle. "Of course, I'd prefer you not getting acquainted with Neptune's more erotic residents, but I guess I must accept that boys will be boys…" I sigh heavily.

"Right…" He chuckles. "Like you lovely ladies aren't paying a visit to a strip club for the bachelorette party?"

"Okay, admittedly, it's on the schedule, but for your sake, I promise not to enjoy it."

* * *

Feeling the utter and total need for BFF time, I sweep by Wallace's dorm to rouse him for a healthy breakfast in the cafeteria. I would typically call up Logan first, but he's more than likely nursing a heavy hangover. Besides, Wallace and I have had like zip quality time lately.

I knock at the door and after a few guttural moans, the door flies open and a very haggard Troy looks back at me yawning. "What's up, Veronica?"

"Where's Wallace?" I ask.

"Mmm, still in bed." He points lazily at Wallace, head under the covers, seemingly drowning out the world.

This is uncharacteristic of Wallace. Sure, on occasion, he might sleep in by accident if his alarm doesn't go off or he falls asleep studying…but never ever like this.

Then the scent hits my nostrils, the room is reeking of alcohol.

"What the hell is that putrid stench?" I pinch my nose and Troy laughs.

"Casey's bachelor party." He pauses "Eau de Stripper if you will."

"And assuredly a bunch of cheap vodka. You'd think you 09ers would at least go for the good stuff. Grey Goose perhaps?"

"What we lack in quality, we make up in quantity." He jokes suggestively and I hit him in the arm.

"So is Logan completely trashed?" I ask nervously, rubbing Wallace's tiny curls, trying to rouse him from his endless sleep.

"Oh, I thought he went to your place last night…uh no, he actually had only one drink and left pretty early. Like eleven maybe?" Troy seems a little stunned.

"Really?" I furrow my brow and Wallace finally shakes awake, Troy quickly takes a sip off his water bottle, chilling in the desk chair.

"Mom?"

"No, Sleeping Beauty. It's not your mom, but believe me, if it were Alicia, you'd _so _be on house arrest right now."

"I need…I need a trashcan." He dry heaves for a moment to my disgust. I quickly grab for one and place it next to his bed, but luckily it isn't needed. Thank God. Logan's got a pretty good tolerance due to years of "training", so the last time I had to deal with that kind of puking, it was Duncan…ugh.

"C'mon. You need fresh air and lots of toast. Maybe a gallon of water too."

"Okay." He replies slurringly. "Give me like 10 minutes and I'll be fresh as a daisy, at least smell-wise…"

"Perfect." I reply, going out in the hall. What a great opportunity to call Logan.

It rings and rings for what seems a century then suddenly turns off without voicemail. I can't believe it! He freaking ignored my call!

Finally I try again and he answers.

"Hello?"

"Dude, you so ignored my call. So where are you? My sources say you left early last night…"

"Your sources? What, you had someone spy on me?"

"Okay, suspicious girlfriend is so last year. This is…_Curious_ Veronica. I was talking to Troy a few minutes ago and he said you left early…which is weird, oh and apparently went to my place which I definitely do not remember… I'm just wondering."

"Hm."

"So will you tell me where you are? If you don't, I'll so activate the GPS in the Rover." I tease nervously.

"What happened to suspicious girlfriend being so last year?" He asks accusingly.

"I. Was. Kidding." I pause and then add, concerned, "Really, Logan, I'm worried."

"Fine." He huffs. "I'm surveying Braddick's apartment." He admits grudgingly.

"Logan." I sigh. "You're going to get yourself killed."

"Like Gena did? Veronica-"

"Okay, bad choice of words. Sorry. Are you at least being safe? Costume, shades, an alleyway for cover? Anything?"

"I've got tint on the windows. Nobody can see anything. As far as they know, I'm some random upstart celebrity who's visiting."

"Logan…" I pause and try to formulate a plan. "At least wait for me before you make a move."

"Veronica, you're not getting yourself hurt…"

"Neither are you." I add firmly. "I'm coming…I'll just tell Wallace that we can't do breakfast and Troy'll be his rehabilitation buddy."

"He certainly has the expertise." Logan scoffs. "Okay, I'll wait, bring lunch though?"

"Sure. Love you."

"Love you too, bye."

Wallace coincidentally strides out the door at the same time as I hang up and frown.

"What? Do I still smell like The Seventh Veil?"

"No. I'm sorry. But Logan and I have some recon work to do. He's in LA. I have to go make sure he's okay…once this whole ordeal is over we're definitely going to have a week away chock-full of BFF time. I promise." I hold up the Girl Scout sign.

"Be careful."

"Of course. It's like you think I'm a novice." I offer up a crooked grin and give him a hug.

Truth is, Wallace _does_ still smell like the Seventh Veil, but for the sake of his self-confidence, I don't say a word.

* * *

Pressing a Blimpie bag to the window, the door unlocks and I slide in. Logan looks haggard, like he hasn't slept in days…

"How long have you been awake?" I hand him the bag and he immediately scrambles to get it open.

"I drove straight here last night and have literally been awake the entire time." He yawns.

"Logan…"

"Don't. Veronica, just don't. I couldn't have fun last night knowing Gena's killer was still out there. God, she'll never have a bachelorette party, never have kids, a family…I'm sure you would have done this for Lilly."

I sigh. He's right. "Just don't drive yourself crazy over this, Logan. We're so close, so close to finding out what happened, it's a waiting game. Waiting for the right opportunity."

He doesn't reply, choosing to munch on his sub instead.

"Has he left yet?"

"About ten minutes ago."

"We should go then." I reply simply and he's already out the door.

After the trek to the complex, I stop in the front office.

"Hello? Hello?"

"Yes?" An elderly woman comes to the desk.

"Hi, I'm Milo Braddick's sister. Melissa. We're twins, isn't that neat?"

"Very." She says, utterly unenthused. "How can I help you?"

"Ok, he gave me a key to his apartment but my lunkhead of a boyfriend, Drew threw it away…" I point back at Logan shaking my head. "I just haven't told him because I knew he'd be pissed. Anyway, he told me he left something in his apartment for me, like a late birthday gift or something…I _so _have to get in there." I insist sweetly.

"Fine." She huffs, not even attempting to check I.D., which is okay by me. Sure, I'd carefully made a fake I.D. for such an occasion, but given the opportunity, I'd rather not have to show it.

She fishes through a drawer at the desk and comes up successfully with a key. "I'll be needing this back. Only've got one key specific to his apartment." She nods and places it carefully in my hand.

"Thank you." I smile back and take Logan by the hand down the hall. Soon, we're in the elevator on our way up.

As I press the button for the floor, I feel his hot breath on my ear. "Did that manipulation come from Veronica circa 2002? You're just so sweet…how can anybody say no?" He smirks.

"Nobody suspects the blonde."

"Bow down to the master of scams." He offers up a weak smile and I carefully take his hand to find it sweating. He's always been a pro at hiding his discomfort, fear even. I guess acting does run in the family, after all.

I segue. "Logan, you have to remain objective with this. I Gena was…_Gena_, but you can't get all emotional or involved, we've got to remain focused."

He nods, gulping, as if to focus completely on the task the hand.

Putting on bright, enthusiastic smiles, we both get off the elevator and stride straight to Milo's apartment. Almost apprehensively, I slip the key in the lock, twisting it with ease. The door opens to reveal a slightly messy, somewhat ordinary guy pad.

We immediately close the door and Logan whispers "Divide and conquer?"

I nod and quickly make my way to the room directly across from Gena's apartment. There's miscellaneous newspaper clippings on a table near the window, detailing the Echolls family drama from the past few years, as well as a television with a video camera propped directly in the direction of Gena's connected it. Nervously, I slip latex gloves on to turn the television on. I press "play" on the camera, and wait as the fuzz clears. What I see makes me gasp in shock.

"Veronica, what is it?" Logan panics and runs in, just in time for me to replay the clip.

It's Spencer, a simple nudge was all it took for Gena to plummet to her death. The most obvious suspect, Spencer, was indeed the killer, even accidentally. Logan finally spots something on the table, with a note attached. "Send into Celebrity Source".

"Put it in." I say hoarsely as he takes a tape out of the manilla envelope and slips it in.

What we see is even more shocking, so much so that Logan almost loses his grounding, having to lean on a desk chair for his balance.

Talking to Gena on her balcony, nearly hidden in the shade is someone we would never, ever expect.

It's Lynn. _Alive. _

* * *

**A/N:**

Finally updated, but honestly, it feels like such a weak update. And I did go there with the whole Lynn thing, despite my previous ideas for the story. I will explain and correlate Gena's murder with Lynn's appearance in the next chapter, as well as going into while the heck Milo Braddick's so important. Thanks guys and so so so sorry for the delay :(


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